Furious Angels
by Worldmaker
Summary: Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out, even to the edge of doom.
1. Like A Sentence Of Death

**Chapter One: ****Like A Sentence Of Death...**

Hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, behind a door that was locked to all but a handful of wizards and witches, were a series of chambers in which the mysteries of love itself were studied; _studied,_ but never fully understood. It was, after all, recognized that love was the purest and most powerful form of magic... so powerful, in fact, that the normally magically-blind Muggles felt its effects and could, in their crude manner, generate and manipulate the magic of love in some small way.

Behind the locked door, down a long hallway, if one were to pass the Chamber of Madrigals, and the Court of the Dancing Fellowship, past the majestic Throne of Desire Itself, one would come to the Chamber of Soul Stones.

The room was large. Along its walls were pedestals of rose marble. Evenly spaced along the long, curving wall, these pedestals each supported a large book. Most of the books were closed, and next to the closed books always lay a Soul Stone. No stone accompanied the small handful of open books, for these Stones were still out among the world, slowly being passed from one wizard or witch to their one true love, or being handed down from generation to generation until such time as someone took up their family's Soul Stone heirloom and braved it's anger by gifting it to their lover.

The Soul Stones were not artifacts to be used lightly. Most scholars who studied such matters believed, above any other evidence, that Soul Stones were tangible proof of the power of love. They were not trifles to be passed as one passed more common tokens of affection. They could not be given, nor received, by lovers if either heart were anything but truly, madly, deeply in love with the other. To even attempt such an act courted the anger of the Stones, and brought on punishments better left unmentioned.

No, they weren't passed from one to another lightly at all. For most of the Soul Stones, this meant that their accompanying book, in which the names of the giver and receiver of a Stone were recorded automatically and without error, was covered in dust. The Stone of Songs, for example, had last been given to Darius Black by his true love, Artemis Horne, in July of 1422, while the Dragon Stone hadn't been passed since the year 950.

What made one Stone, the Stone of Burning Bright, unusual was the sheer number of times it had been passed. The book that recorded the giving and receiving of this stone was dust free. At first glance it looked as if the Stone of Burning Bright had been tossed willy-nilly, hither and yon, but this was not the truth... for the book only recorded true love. In every case... almost twelve exchanges over the last two-hundred and fifty years, averaging once every twenty years or so... the transfer had been accomplished perfectly.

The last entry in the Book of Burning Bright said _Given by Harry James Potter to Ginevra Molly Weasley, August 11, 1999._

No more and no less, it was the function of a Soul Stone to protect and continue and insure the existence of true love. Between hearts that were true, the passing of a Soul Stone from one to another created a purity of feeling that perpetuated the lovers' devotion to one another in perpetuity. The bond between the giver and the receiver was stronger than any other known.

It transcended such petty matters as life or death...

XxxxxxX

Her parents and siblings always treated her with kindness and care, even when they couldn't keep the pity or (on rare occasions) disgust off of their faces. For her part, Ginny Weasley never seemed to notice the difference. For the most part, Ginny didn't seem to notice anything. She did, however, spend most of her day staring into the space in front of her.

She wasn't truly catatonic. If pulled up from the antique, padded wheelchair in which she spent most of her time, Ginny could stand on her own without falling. If a bit of food was placed in her mouth, she'd chew and swallow. She'd even speak if the right thing was said within her hearing range... though what she said almost never had anything to do with what was going on around her.

Once, when he was seven, her nephew Hugo stood next to her for almost twenty minutes, staring at her blank face. After twenty minutes or so, he asked, "Aunt Ginny, are you sad?" Before he could be rushed away by his father, Ginny had turned to look at him.

This had surprised everyone in the room so much that Ron hadn't, in fact, scooped up his son and hustled him away. Thus, Hugo got an answer. Ginny blinked, rather deliberately. The she had smiled at him. There had been other smiles over the years, but they seemed to come and go at random and never lasted long.

"Harry will be back soon," she said. "Everything will be fine once he gets here. You'll see." And with that, Ginny turned her attention back to the empty space in front of her. Hugo, for his part, didn't notice the shudder Ginny's words caused in his father.

Later on, the boy would ask Ron who Harry was, anyway. "He was a friend of your Aunt Ginny's, Hugo. He was your Aunt Ginny's special friend." It shocked Hugo to realize that his Dad... his Dad who was strong, and fierce, and who caught bad guys and was afraid of nothing except maybe spiders, but that was okay because so was Hugo... his big, tough Dad who would always watch out for him... was about to cry. "He died a long time ago, Hugo. There was a bad wizard and Harry... Harry was a bit like an Auror... it was his job to stop the bad wizard and protect everybody... Well, he stopped the bad wizard, but when he did it, Harry got really hurt. He was hurt so bad that the Healers couldn't fix it, and he died."

"Just like Grandma Molly?" Hugo remembered his grand-mother's funeral, which had occurred a month before, very well. He hadn't enjoyed it very much, and thinking about his Grandma made his tummy hurt for some reason.

"Yeah..." Ron wiped his eyes. "Just like Grandma Molly."

Hugo put his finger to his lips and tapped it there for a moment. It was a mannerism he picked up from his mother; she would perform the same action when thinking over a problem. "Dad... is my middle name... was I named... after...?"

His father had just nodded. "Yeah... Harry was one of my best mates. Not a day goes by I don't miss him, son. He was a great friend and a great man, and you should be honored to carry his name."

Hugo was quiet, thinking about it. "Daddy, was Harry Aunt Ginny's boyfriend or something?"

Ron nodded. No one would ever accuse his kids of being dumb; not with _their _mother. "Yeah, he was." Hugo had given his father a big hug and had gone off to bed, thinking about the secret knowledge he had gained that night. For a seven year old, he thought he'd actually figured Aunt Ginny out. She was sad because her special boyfriend had died like Grandma Molly, and now was in a box in a hole in the ground. It was almost like a secret... a secret that his sister Rose, and his older cousins... which meant all of them, since he was the baby of the family, didn't know.

His older cousins sometimes made jokes about Aunt Ginny when no one else was around. Victoire and Fred, the two oldest of the cousins, would sometimes be asked to 'babysit' their Aunt Ginny, a job they treated like a chore. But Hugo understood now. Aunt Ginny was just very sad.

The next time he was over at Grandpa Arthur's, Hugo made a point of seeking out his Aunt Ginny. He made sure none of the adults were in the room; when he was sure they weren't paying attention, Hugo climbed up into Ginny's lap and snuggled against her. In response she wrapped her arms around him and held him gently.

When his mother found him on Ginny's lap, asleep, she was at first horrified; then confused; then, at last, touched. Hugo slept in the crook of Ginny's arm, and Ginny gently stroked his back. Deciding he wasn't hurting her, or vice-versa, Hermione left Hugo sleeping in Ginny's embrace. For her part, Ginny never once looked away from the far point in space she stared at, and never made a sound.

It was the first real interaction Ginny had, other than the purely functional, in almost fifteen years.

XxxxxxX

The exact strength and power of the various Soul Stones had never been precisely measured. Most scholars who studied them believed the Stones actually grew in power the longer they were in contact with a loving soul, and the more souls with which they were in contact. Because of this, the Stone of Burning Bright was, generally speaking, assumed to be the most powerful of all the Soul Stones, with its nearest competitor being the Stone of Songs. Of course, the exact strength of the two stones was completely unknown. But there had been some interesting speculations.

It cannot be said that the Soul Stones were truly intelligent, as Wizarding portraits were; nor were they semi-sapient in the same manner as Wizarding chess sets or talking mirrors. There was no directing intelligence when it came to a Stone detecting a false love, or going to extremes in order to protect and insure the continuation of a great love.

In addition, to every possible test ever devised by the Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries, Soul Stones were some of the most inert objects ever discovered. They simply did not exist, as far as most of the commonly-known magical tests were concerned. This, of course, was nonsense... the Soul Stones existed, but they seemed to be magically undetectable to spells that tried to pinpoint their activities, or their exact powers. The Books of the Stones were, and remain to this day, the single exception.

The mystery of the Soul Stones was thusly one that Wizarding-kind had studied, nearly fruitlessly, for thousands of years.

XxxxxxX

_**June 1, 2020**_

When Hugo Weasley got home, the first thing he did was drag his things up to his room. Having stowed away the artifacts of the past year at school, he got a drink of water and went looking for his Aunt Ginny, who had moved in with his family upon the death of his Grandpa Arthur. He'd only just started at Hogwarts that year, and was looking forward to talking to her about it. Before he'd started school, he would always spend a part of each day talking. He'd tell her about his friends, and the games he played, and his fears and his worries.

Admittedly, Ginny might not be the best talker in the world, but as a listener she was the best. And, at least to Hugo, it seemed to brighten her day some just to be included. And besides, he never knew when she'd actually talk to him. It had happened several times again since he was seven. Generally, she said the same sorts of things; that Harry would be here soon and when he did everything would be okay. She tended to say this in response to just about everything, but he'd stopped caring a while ago.

He dragged a chair over (having long ago outgrown her lap), took one of her hands in his, and smiled at her. "Hello, Aunt Ginny," Hugo began. He paused, thinking. "I'm sorry I haven't been here to talk to you. I had to go away to school."

He looked through the window in front of which Ginny had been placed. He could see his Grammy-Jane... his mother's mother, digging around with a tool of some sort. She, too, lived with Hugo's family. Hugo smiled and waved, then turned back to his Aunt.

"I rode on the train with the cousins... I mean, except Victoire and Fred, of course, because they're already left... but I guess you knew that. I met Hagrid, and the boat ride was wicked! And the castle looks all spooky and fantastic in the dark. And when the Sorting Hat was put on me it yelled 'Gryffindor' almost as soon as it touched my head! And the food was... Aunt Ginny?"

As he had been speaking, she had slowly turned her head to stare at him. Only she wasn't just staring at nothing anymore, she was staring at _**HIM**_. And the expression on her face... he couldn't tell if she was angry or frightened or both.

"H-Hog... Hogwarts... Hogwarts..." She was barely able to get the words out. "The cas-castle!" Before he could recover from the shock of hearing her speak, Ginny had grabbed him by the hand. She was squeezing, and it began to hurt. "You're... you're going... going to Hogwarts..." She stammered.

"MOM! DAD!" Hugo yelled. "HELP! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH AUNT GINNY!"

"No... No no no no no no no...." Ginny was getting frantic "... you can't go to Hogwarts! Not you too! You can't go you can't go you can't go.... Not to _**that **_place... not to where he...!" Ginny gasped and let Hugo's wrist go.

Hermione and Ron ran into the room just in time to see Ginny collapse back into her chair. Her eyes were wide... not the vacant stare she had kept for twenty years, but the terrified look of an animal that's been trapped and knows it soon will be killed and eaten. Tears poured from her eyes. Both of Ginny's hands were covering her mouth, but everyone in the room could hear the deep sobbing.

Jane Granger hurried into the room, and was visibly shocked by the noise that she had heard all the way outside. "What's going on? Is someone hurt?" When she saw Ginny, she put a hand to her heart and backed up a step. "Is she...?" She looked the question at Hermione, who shrugged.

From the staircase, Hugo's sister Rose appeared, looking terrified that something bad had happened. "What's going on? Who's yelling?"

Her mother waved her to silence. Hermione turned to her son. "Hugo! What happened?"

"I don't know, Mum... I was just telling Aunt Ginny about my year at Hogwarts and she went all... well... look!" Hugo gestured toward where his Aunt was crying. She'd never cried before. Not for as long as he knew her. "She told me I shouldn't be going to Hogwarts!"

Hermione looked shocked and confused. "She _**told **_you? She actually spoke to you and it made sense?"

Ron frowned at his wife. He took a deep breath and approached his sister. "Ginny?" He put a hand on her shoulder and knelt beside her. "Gin? It's Ron... Are you okay?"

Ginny flinched at the physical contact, but the crying slowed down. She took a series of deep breaths. "Oh God, Ron... Ron... he's not coming... he's not coming! He's gone!" She turned, almost falling out of the chair. Ginny pulled herself to her older brother and cried into his chest.

Hugo, feeling protective of his Aunt Ginny, and feeling guilty that what he said might have started all of this, stroked his aunt's back. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing that occurred to him. The boy looked at his mother, but it was obvious even to an almost-twelve year old that Hermione was barely holding it together.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ginny pushed back from Ron, looking around in confusion. "I don't... Ron? I think I need to..." she tried to climb to her feet, but years of doing nothing but sitting had ruined her balance and weakened her legs.

Effortlessly, Ron picked her up. "Where are we going, Gin? Where do you need to go?"

"Bathroom," she whispered. "I think I'm going to be sick..."

"Right," Ron said. He looked to his daughter and jerked his head to the side. "Clear the way, Rosie..." He climbed the stairs as carefully as he could, all the while trying to be reassuring to his sister. She seemed, finally, to come out of wherever it was she had been trapped for the past two decades. In the bathroom, he put her down next to the toilet and stood, watching.

Ginny grimaced as she lowered herself onto the tile. "I'll be fine, Ron... really... Ron? What happened? You look... old..."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, sis... we all do these days. Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so... maybe it's going to pass... I don't feel so much like throwing up right now..." Ginny looked around. "How'd I get here, Ron? This isn't the Burrow... where's Mum and Dad?"

Ron looked heartsick. "We can talk about that later. Is there anything you need me to get you right now?"

Ginny shook her head. Her eyes landed on the bathtub. She studied it for a moment, and then turned to her brother. "I think I want a hot soak... can I take a bath, Ron? Is that all right?"

"Um... a bath? Sure, Ginny. Hold on." Ron stepped past her and turned the water on. He tapped it twice with his wand, bringing the water temperature up to a nice warm, but not scalding, level. He tucked his wand into his back pocket. "There you go, Ginny... um... let me help you up."

Ginny allowed Ron to pull her to her feet, and even allowed him to undress her. She realized, somehow, that this wasn't the first time he'd done it, after all. Without warning, Ginny pulled her brother into a tight embrace.

Ron jumped. While he appreciated the fact that his baby sister seemed to be active and at least approaching normal, and while he loved the thought of her hugging him like this, being hugged by his _absolutely stark naked _baby sister was a little too... wrong... for him to be comfortable with.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Ron. I love you," she said at last. "Tell Hermione I love her, too."

Ron nodded, a bit confused. "Okay, Ginny... I'll see you when you're done. Hermione'll bring you some clean clothes. Then we'll get some dinner, okay? Whatever you want..."

"Okay. Thanks." She watched her brother leave, her eyes filling with tears. When he closed the door behind him, she quietly locked the door. She climbed into the tub, contemplating the object in her hand: Ron's wand, taken from his back pocket during the hug. Ginny lay back in the tub, submerging as far as she could in the hot water. She was crying freely now, as the last twenty years spent mourning washed over her like waves on a beach. "Not like this... it can't be like this..."

Downstairs, the adults talked in quiet, whispered tones, trying to not let the children hear how worried they were. The children huddled together in another room, doing their level best to come to terms with what happened. In this, Hugo was actually better off than his sister, having spent so much time with his Aunt.

The quick flash of sickly green light was visible only from outside of the house. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there was no one there to see it...

XxxxxxX

_Right before he left to hunt the Horcruxes created by Tom Riddle, Harry had given the ring to Ginny, his one true love. It had been his mother's engagement ring, he had told her. She had gasped at that, her eyes asking him silently if he meant that as it sounded. He nodded to her, and told her of his intentions to marry her when he returned. He asked if she... and she said yes. Before her eyes, the inscription on the ring had changed._

_Harry and Ginevra, Always._

_The_ _Stone of Burning Bright, which has been set into this ring by Harry's great-great-grandfather, now lay on the dressing table in Ginny's room. When Harry Potter had been killed outside the gates of Hogwarts, the stone had gathered up the torn remnants of the boy's soul that had lingered... it now did the same to the soul of Ginny Weasley. The power of the Stone wrapped itself around these remnants, combining them into one shining whole. There was a flash of white light, and the ring was gone, taking the Stone with it. The power of the stone, dedicated as it was to the protection and continuation of true love, followed the last wishes of its bearer._

_The Stone left no trace of where it had been, or where it was going. Far away, in the Chamber of Soul Stones, a book closed forever..._

XxxxxxX

One thing that was known about relationships that were overseen by a Soul Stone was their permanence, and their parity. The people involved were together, with no thought for another, for their entire lives. When one died, the other would never long survive. In the famous case of Nicholas Flamel, who gave the Stone of Roses to Perenelle de Clarmonde in 1380, Perenelle survived the death of her husband (in 1992) by only three days, passing away in her sleep peacefully.

The exception to this rule, as was true in so many cases when dealing with the Soul Stones, was the Stone of Burning Bright. Its last recipient, Ginevra Weasley, survived the death of her soul mate, Harry Potter, for just over 21 years before her own death. Scholars note, however, that as she spent most of that time in a catatonic or near-catatonic state, she shouldn't necessarily be counted as an exception at all...

XxxxxxX

_**July 18, 1992. 7:02 am**_

Ginny sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes. There had been a voice... it had been calling her. Nervously, Ginny looked around her bedroom, but no one was there. She crawled out of bed and checked her door, but it was closed tight. So was her window.

_It must have been just a dream, then,_ Ginny thought to herself. It had started out as a Harry Potter dream, but then it had changed... a beautiful woman had appeared, and she looked so sad. She had long, bright red hair, and chocolate eyes. When she spoke to Ginny, she said things that didn't make a lot of sense. The exact words the woman had said were already fading from memory, but that was okay. It was something about love and destiny... strange things like that...

Ginny sat back on her bed and stretched. As she yawned, she saw the ring.

The ring was laying on top of her quilt, glinting in the morning sunlight. It was a very bright silver color, with a rather large blue-white diamond that seemed to shine with a light all its own. And it seemed to be calling her...

Ginny picked the ring up and studied it. It was just a ring... a diamond ring. _It's pretty,_ she thought. Then her eyes fell on the inscription. _Harry and Ginevra, Always._ Ginny immediately blushed from her hair to her toes. _The twins are pranking me. _But she wasn't sure. This didn't feel like a prank. She stared at the ring for a long while. Without thinking about it, she slipped the ring on over her left ring-finger.

The connection closed. Ginny collapsed unconscious as the power of the Stone of Burning Bright poured into her. She was only out for a moment, and when she opened her eyes, Ginny knew that everything had changed. She was supposed to stop something from happening. She wasn't sure what; or how; or why, for that matter. One thing she was certain of... _I have to convince Fred, George, and Ron to rescue Harry from his horrid relatives __**now**__, before Dobby had a chance to get him in trouble._

It occurred to her to wonder for a moment just who Dobby was supposed to be. Someone important, she was sure... but she couldn't quite... Ginny shrugged. _It will come to me, or it won't. Either way..._

Ginny could just barely hear her mother begin to shuffle around in the kitchen, and decided that this was as good a time as any to get dressed and start her day. She'd talk to her brothers after breakfast. They'd help her out... she just knew it.

XxxxxxX

In the Chamber of Soul Stones, Lawrence Lowdly (who, it should be pointed out, had always taken some enjoyment from being called _Unspeakable Lowdly_) paused in his study of the Stone of Dragons, which had come into ministry possession back in 1744. He turned in time to watch the quill next to the Book of Burning Bright record the passage of the Stone of Burning Bright from one person to another.

He felt so absolutely giddy he almost fainted. No Unspeakable had ever witnessed the recording of a transfer before, and yet here he was, large as life, and had just watched it happen! He rushed over to the book to see who had given the stone to whom.

_Given by_ _Harry Potter to Ginevra Molly Weasley, July 18, 1992._

The names caught his attention. The Boy-Who-Lived had given a Soul Stone to his true love? Lowdly did some quick math in his head... _Harry Potter can't be more than twelve or thirteen years old! How could he possibly hand out a Soul Stone? _He shook his head and laughed. "Boy survived a Killing Curse, and you're wondering how he could be old enough to find a soul mate at age thirteen. Someone here needs a vacation..." Lowdly laughed at himself. "Still... thirteen is a bit young to be getting married..."

"And Weasley... Weasley... there's a Weasley in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Wonder if he's related." Unspeakable Lowdly headed for the door. "He should be getting in soon... so let's ask him, Lawrence me-lad..."

As the Unspeakable exited the Chamber of Soul Stones, he thought of another register, this one recording magical weddings. He wondered how that office was taking the sudden appearance of the Boy-Who-Lived on their rolls...


	2. Taking Notice Of What's Been Changed

**Chapter Two: Taking Notice Of What's Been Changed**

The house-elf finished setting the table by laying a small handful of newspapers on the side-board, within easy reach of the headmaster and his guests. The elf, whose name was Ushas, was the oldest and most-respected of the elves who toiled in Hogwarts Castle, and thus it was this elf that had the high honor of serving the headmaster his breakfast. Ushas, who had clear memories of the current headmaster arriving at the school as an eleven year old boy, could easily have served breakfast instantly, through her magic, but she felt the personal touch was called for.

So, on the occasion of a private breakfast in the Headmaster's Quarters, the house-elf would set the table (using the fine china, of course), set out the tea, and arrange the napkins and the cups and glasses for whatever number of guests the headmaster needed to accommodate. The last step was the newspapers. The headmaster was mad for newspapers; the _Daily Prophet, _the _Wizarding Gazette_ all the way from New York City… even Muggle papers like _The Times _of London and _The Edinburgh Evening News_.

To be honest, the headmaster appreciated the extra attention, even though he by no means demanded it.

This morning, Albus Dumbledore was entertaining two of his favorite instructors. He didn't often meet with his teachers in such an informal setting as a meal, but he found that every once in a while it was an absolute joy to have them as guests, where they could simply chat about whatever came to mind rather than dwelling on school business. His guests were Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick. The three of them had been teaching at Hogwarts longer than any of the other instructors, and they truly enjoyed each other's company. As they chit-chatted about their mornings, Ushas placed an egg poached in its shell before each of the professors.

"Well, I hope this year will be much more peaceful than the last," Professor McGonagall sniffed. "Especially now that we don't have You-Know-Who on the teaching staff."

"Yes, that did come as a bit of a shock. Could you pass the pepper please?" Flitwick smiled his thanks as Dumbledore handed the shaker over. "Now, Albus… do tell… who did you con into the Defense post this year?"

Dumbledore grinned. "Actually, Filius, I had a volunteer. Gilderoy Lockhart wrote me several weeks ago and offered to fill the post." He took a careful look around the table; he'd misplaced his spoon. "Ah, here."

"Lockhart? Hah! I've met him; Albus… the man is a consummate fraud. If he's actually accomplished one tenth of the things he says he has, I'll eat my hat." McGonagall tapped her spoon against the egg, cracking the shell in a perfect circle.

"Yes, well… remember the old saying, Minerva, regarding beggars being too picky." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment. He turned his attention to his own breakfast, but when the edge of his spoon contacted the egg, rather than the gentle crack of the shell, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the room.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed, and for a moment he carefully examined his egg. Then he noticed a pale white light pulsating above a particularly strange looking device on one of the side shelves. "Great Merlin… the wards are down!" Dumbledore shot to his feet and immediately strode to his fireplace. "Minerva… Please round up whichever teachers you can find and have them meet me at the Dursley's. You remember the address I am sure. Filius… come with me, please! We've no time to lose! The wards protecting Harry Potter have just been shattered! Not merely broken, but shattered!"

Minerva nodded and ran through Dumbledore's door. Flitwick grabbed a handful of powder from the canister next to the fireplace. "Shattered, Albus? I thought you said these were blood wards of the ancient magic… what force could possibly be so powerful as to shatter them?"

"I hate to think it, Filius." Dumbledore tossed his handful of powder into the fire and called out, "Arabella Figg's house!" The headmaster disappeared into the green flames, with Flitwick on his heels. They stepped out of the fireplace at Mrs. Figg's house, scaring several kneazles in the doing. Without waiting, Dumbledore headed for the door. Within minutes he was standing in front of Number 4, Privet Drive. Everything appeared peaceful and quiet. There were some sounds coming from the house… but if it hadn't been for the wards falling, Albus would have sworn that this was just another normal morning. The entire situation confused him.

"Albus, I see no foe here…" Flitwick kept swiveling back and forth, looking for the wizard powerful enough to knock down a blood ward as strong as the one Dumbledore swore was protecting this house. "Should we check the house?"

"Yes, I think we should. Here." With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore transfigured the clothing they were both wearing into rather stylish if conservatively cut business suits. Dumbledore's was plum-colored, while Flitwick's was saffron orange.

"Oh, I like this… Is this what the well-to-do Muggle is wearing these days?" Flitwick spared a glance at his new suit while following Dumbledore up the walk to Number 4. "I think I'll keep it."

"Indeed…" Dumbledore knocked on the house's front door. There was a slight bustle heard from inside. The door opened to reveal Harry Potter himself. The boy was wearing an apron and holding a spatula.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry was obviously surprised to see his headmaster. "Professor Flitwick! Um… is there… what brings you…?"

"Who's at the door?" Harry's Aunt Petunia impatiently shoved Harry out of the way. When she saw the two men on the stoop, her eyes narrowed as she recognized Dumbledore. "Oh… it's you. What do _you _want?"

"As always, it is wonderful to see you again, Petunia. This is my colleague, Professor Flitwick. May we come inside?" As Dumbledore was asking, he stepped past Petunia and into the hallway. "Now… it is important that you answer this question truthfully. Has anything unusual happened this morning?"

"You mean other than a madman and a dwarf showing up out of nowhere and barging into my life where they are not wanted?" Petunia was livid.

"Why, yes, Petunia… other than that, has anything odd happened? Any strange noises? Anyone trying to break in, perhaps?"

At Dumbledore's words, Harry began to grow paler and paler. "Excuse me, Professor… what's happened? Is someone hurt?" Visions of Ron or Hermione hurt flashed through his head, followed by the remaining faces of his friends. "Is it… You-Know-Who?" At Harry's question, even Petunia paled. She played a good game of total ignorance about the Wizarding World, but…

"No one's been hurt yet, Harry," Dumbledore said. "That's why we're here. Something has happened and you may no longer be safe. Any of you. Now… again, has anything strange other that our arrival occurred this morning?"

"Nothing, Professor. I've been up since sunrise and everything was quiet. It looked like a beautiful morning, in fact. I came down early to start breakfast while my Uncle and Dudley were showering." Everyone in the hall could still hear the water running upstairs.

At the reminder of breakfast, Petunia suddenly sniffed at the air. "Get to the kitchen. The bacon is burning!" She turned to Dumbledore. "Now, as you can see there's nothing happening here. Get out."

"I am afraid that until we check the house, we cannot acquiesce to your request," Dumbledore responded. "Filius, if you please, could you check the house. I'll remain here with our charming hostess."

Flitwick nodded and jogged as best he could up the stairs while Petunia fumed. Before the Charms professor could return, Harry stepped into the Hallway, a roll of parchment in his hands. "Professor Dumbledore, an owl just arrived from Gringott's Bank. They're asking me to come to them today to…" Harry opened the scroll "… 'accept possession of the Potter Family Vault, recombine the Potter Family Trust into the primary vault, and oversee the change in security measures owing to the recent change in account status.' Professor… what does that mean?"

Flitwick came back down the stairs. "Albus, there's nothing up there but a short blond hippopotamus and an angry wet middle-aged man with blood pressure problems." He took a deep breath and shrugged. "Albus, there's nothing here…"

"I'm coming to believe that, Filius." Dumbledore turned to Petunia. "Petunia… did you or anyone else threaten Harry with expulsion from this house? Did you, specifically, tell him he was no longer welcome here?" Petunia glared at Dumbledore for a long while before simply shaking his head.

"Thank you, Petunia. Harry," Dumbledore said, turning his eyes to his student. "Did you at any time tell your aunt that you intended to leave, or that you wished she wasn't your aunt, or anything of that nature?"

Harry blushed. It was fairly clear that he had, at some point, thought at least one of those sentiments. But… "No, Professor… I never said anything like that."

"Thank you. Well… this is perplexing. I'll have to re-erect the wards. Until that time, you can't stay here, Harry… it's simply not safe for you, or for your relatives, for you to be here without the protective spells in place. You'll be coming with me to Hogwarts until we find a safer place to put you. Go gather your things," Dumbledore sighed. He turned to Petunia. "As always, it's been a pleasure, Madame."

XxxxxxX

Arthur Weasley smiled as he reached his desk. Regardless of the long hours, regardless of the low pay, he truly loved his job. Protecting Muggles from irresponsible wizards just made sense to him and gave him a sense of purpose he doubted he'd have, were he in the Department of International Cooperation or in the Sports and Games office. Arthur picked up the reports that had come in overnight, scanning them for anything immediate. Unfortunately, nothing looked too pressing, and he had a report he needed to finish. His office was the smallest and most underfunded section of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but that was no reason to slack off on the job.

Arthur's assistant, Perkins, stuck his head around the corner. "Arthur… one of the Unspeakables was up to talk to you just before you got in. Lowdly, I think his name was… didn't want to leave a note, but asked if you could Floo him as soon as you came in. Said it was important. Something to do with one of the Long-Term Study projects they have going down in the Spooks."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to call him them." Arthur laughed at the use of "Spooks". Nearly every other office in the Ministry used that nickname for the Unspeakables, but never to their faces. Not that you ran into them very often. They tended to go into their secret laboratories and hide there, never to be seen by the other Ministry personnel. He went to the office Floo and placed the call.

He had no idea what one of the Unspeakables would want to talk to him about, which made him both excited and anxious. "Arthur Weasley for Unspeakable Lowdly," he said when his Floo-call was answered. The Unspeakable nodded without saying anything and stepped out of Arthur's view. A few minutes later, another man, Lowdly presumably, appeared.

"Arthur Weasley? It's nice to meet you. Lawrence Lowdly. I'm on one of the Long-Term Study projects… I cannot tell you which one, of course, but… well… something's come up and I believe it involves a member of your family; one of your children, I believe. If this does involve one of your children, I have received special clearance from the Director of Mysteries to speak to you about it."

Arthur was stunned. "One of my children, you say?"

"Do you have a daughter, Ginevra Molly Weasley, born August 11, 1981?"

"Yes, Ginny… She's my youngest." Arthur was still confused. "Lowdly… just what is this all about?"

"Well… er… In that case, I suppose I can tell you. I'm part of the team studying Soul Stones. Have you ever heard of Soul Stones, Weasley? No?" Lowdly was a bit uncertain about where to start. "Well… they are magical artifacts that seem to be made of pure love. There are only a handful of Soul Stones still outside of Ministry control… they are very powerful… very powerful indeed. And it's… well… very rare for them ever to be given from one person to another."

"And just what does this have to do with my Ginny?" Arthur asked?

"Why… Don't you see? It seems that, this morning, your Ginny was given one of the Soul Stones… by Harry Potter, no less."

"What? How is that possible? That I'm aware, he hasn't said word one to my daughter in her entire life! Harry's never even been to my house…"

Lowdly shrugged. "I have no idea, Weasley. All I can tell you is that it happened. We have a way to track when one person gives a Soul Stone to another, and it happened this morning at just past seven."

"You're having me on, aren't you?" Arthur smiled. "I hadn't even left my house yet, and I assure you, Harry Potter wasn't within a mile of my house. It's obviously just a big mix-up. I'm sure we can get it all sorted out."

Lowdly's face was grim. "Weasley, you don't seem to understand… there can be no mistake here. The Stone simply won't… go… if the two people involved aren't soul mates. And we keep perfect records… have done forever."

"Now wait just a minute! Ginny's only ten years old, for Merlin's sake… what you're suggesting…" Arthur couldn't continue the thought.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not suggesting anything. I'm outright stating bald fact, not suggesting." Lowdly held a hand up to forestall further comment. "Let me finish… I understand the ages involved. If I remember right, Harry Potter is no more than twelve or thirteen. You say your daughter is ten… believe me, I know how odd that sounds, given their ages. Especially when you consider the other considerations…"

"What other considerations?" Arthur interrupted. "Is something going to happen to Ginny?"

"Well…" Lowdly looked decidedly nervous. He really didn't want to be the one who dropped this particular piece of bad news on the father of a ten year old girl. "You see… the transfer of a Soul Stone from one person to the other is accepted to be a fully binding… magical… marriage. In accepting the Stone of Burning Bright from Harry Potter, your daughter has pledged her troth in eternal fidelity to her soul mate. That is, to Harry Potter. They're married."

"SHE'S WHAT? MARRIED WHAT?" Arthur couldn't breathe. He literally couldn't find enough air. "I… listen, Lowdly… I need… Well… We'll just have to have her give the thing back, now won't we? She's only ten! There's no… no…" Arthur hated it when people used profanity. It made him uncomfortable, and he refused to do it himself. He stopped talking and took a deep breath. It kept himself from using the one particular word he hated more than any of the other swear word. Calmer, he said, "She'll give it back to Potter, and that's that. End of problem."

Lowdly only looked sad. "Arthur, it doesn't work like that. You have to understand… these stones are some of the most powerful magical objects we know of. We're not talking about some pretty bauble a would-be Casanova gives out to any woman he comes across… They mark true, pure romantic love between two people. As such, they can only be given from one person to another when the two people are true soul mates. A person would be mad to risk giving it to anyone else, because the power of the stones would burn the soul of a 'false love' to a cinder, you see?"

"What?"

"I'm trying to tell you, Arthur… it's happened and there's nothing to be done about it but accept it! You're lucky they really were soul mates! If Potter didn't really love your daughter, his soul would have been consumed for the crime of giving it falsely… and if she didn't truly love him in return, so would hers," Lowdly shuddered. "You really don't want to know what happened to the people that's happened to."

Arthur just stared. "I… I need to go and have a talk with my daughter, I think…" He had the same stunned expression one would expect to find on the face of a man who had just been struck in the head by a brick.

"Er… Certainly… I will need to speak to her as well, at her convenience, naturally, and her husband's. Um… Please… er… convey my happiest congratulations to the new bride," Lowdly smiled, but it seemed forced. "And Weasley… for what it's worth… you should try to be happy for them… they certainly are going to be…"

XxxxxxX

Ginny paused at the bottom of the stairs. For some reason, seeing her mother bustling about the kitchen brought sudden feelings of sadness and loss and regret, as if she hadn't seen her mother for years. That didn't make any sense at all, because her mum had tucked her into bed just last night! But it didn't matter. Ginny rushed forward and wrapped her arms as far around her mum as she could, in the tightest hug she could manage.

"Well… good morning to you, Ginny!" Molly hugged her daughter in return. "You look bright-eyed. You're usually much less cheerful when you first wake up."

"Yes, but it's a new day… a different day!" Ginny smiled up at her mum and hugged her again. "It's an amazing day!"

Molly's face broke into a tight smile. "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter, Little Miss Grumpy-Morning?"

"Oh, Mum… don't be silly." Ginny rolled her eyes. Without being asked, she opened the china cabinet and started setting the table for breakfast. She counted out the plates, but paused. "Mum, has Dad left for work yet?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes… your father left… oh… a little while ago." Molly lit the heat beneath the bacon pan.

"All right." Ginny counted out the number of plates needed for her mother, herself, Ron, the twins, and Percy. She stared at the plates… there were no more than two with the same pattern, and some had obvious scratches, discolorations, or even hidden chips in their edges. Vaguely, not aware she was saying anything, Ginny whispered, "Mum would like a new set of dishes… enough to entertain with… and if it's a gift from me, she can't call it charity…"

"Hmm? I didn't hear you, Ginny. What did you say?" Molly brought the jam pot and the butter dish out of the kitchen and put them in the center of the table.

"What?" Ginny shook, as if waking up. She wasn't sure what had just happened. "What, Mum?"

Molly stopped. "What? I thought you said something, dear." She studied her daughter for a moment. "I think you're not as awake as you think you are," she said with a smile. "No, when you finish with the silver, why don't you go up and… Ginny? What is that?"

"What is what, Mum?" Ginny laid out the last fork and straightened. Looking around the table, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Molly pointed to Ginny's hand. "That ring, Ginny… where did you get it?"

Ginny held up her hand. "Oh, this? I found it on my bed this morning. At first I thought it was some prank by the twins, but nothing happened when I put it on. It's pretty, so I decided to keep it."

"May I see it?" Molly held a hand out.

"Sure!" Ginny took the ring off and looked at it. _Harry and Ginevra, Always._ It made her smile. "Here you go, Mum." She looked at her mother, whose initial look of cautious curiosity had darkened. "What?"

"Ginny… you put the ring back on."

"No I…" Ginny looked down at the ring. It was sitting where it had been all morning, on her left ring finger. "Oh… sorry… here." She took it off again. It took all her willpower to drop it into her mother's outstretched hand.

Molly was staring at the stone. "Ginny, this is a diamond! A big one! Just where do you think your brothers would ever come up with enough money to include this in one of their…" She stopped talking as she saw the inscription. She stared at it for a long, hard moment before turning her eyes back to her daughter. "Ginevra Molly Weasley! How did you get this ring? What do you mean, taking a ring like this from a boy you hardly know? One of your brother's friends, no less!"

"Mum, it's just a ring… it's my ring. Can I have it back, please?" Ginny's eyes were wide and terror-filled.

Molly grew red as her anger increased. "Absolutely not! I'm going to hang on to it until we see Harry, and you and I both are going to talk to that boy about casually giving out such expensive and inappropriate gifts. You're not even eleven years old, yet, Ginny… not for another month! You're much too young to be accepting…"

Ginny's attention to her mother's words dissipated slowly. Rather, her attention was caught by what her mother's hands were doing. The hand holding the ring clenched into a tight fist, and then slowly extended toward Ginny. Her mother's hand stayed there until Ginny, rather tentatively, put her own open palm under her mother's fist. It was only then that Molly's hand opened, dropping the ring back into Ginny's grasp. Ginny quickly shoved the ring back onto her finger, and all was right with the world again.

Molly never seemed to notice a thing. "… and you can be sure we'll be talking to your father when he gets back! Oh yes… I'm sure he'll have a thing to say about this!"

"Mum… what's going on? You woke me up?" Ron stood at the bottom of the stair, rubbing his eyes randomly. His hair looked like a bright orange rat's nest.

"Your baby sister has taken it upon herself to start accepting gifts. From a boy. Your so-called best friend, no less!" Molly steamed.

"What? Harry's giving Ginny gifts? Mum… what are you going on about?" Ron asked, confused.

"This!" Molly held her fist out and opened it. Her look of condescending victory faded as she realized there was nothing in her hand.

"Mum… there's nothing there." Ron was confused. He sat down at his normal place at the table. Whatever it was, it could wait until after breakfast.

Molly stared at her hand for a moment, and then looked back at Ginny, who jerked her left hand behind her back as quickly as she could.

Not quickly enough. "Ginny, you have that ring back, don't you?" Molly was only barely hanging on to her anger. "How'd you take it from me?"

"Mum, I didn't! You gave it back to me!" She held her hand out in front of her. The diamond ring was easily visible. Ron's eyes bugged a bit.

"Harry gave _that _to you? When? Is he here?"

"That's not important, Ron," Molly said. "Harry probably sent it directly to her with that owl of his. You know, Ron… if this is how your friends treat your little sister… It's obvious that boy has no respect…"

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HARRY LIKE THAT, YOU JEALOUS OLD HAG!"

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

Ginny's eyes looked like they were going to explode out of their sockets. She covered her mouth with both hands, alarmed and surprised that the scream of rage directed at her mother had actually come from _her _mouth.

Ginny burst into tears and ran for the kitchen door.

It took a moment for Molly to recover. "GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, YOU COME BACK HERE…" She started after her daughter, only to be brought up short by the sudden appearance of her husband in the fireplace.

"Molly! Where's Ginny… we all need to talk… something… something strange has happened. And… well… we all need to talk."

"You don't know the half of it, Arthur! Do you know what your daughter just called me?" Arthur cringed. Molly was on the warpath, and that was never a good sign, especially in a sensitive time like now.

"Molly, I'm sure she didn't mean it, whatever it was. We need to talk to her calmly, like…"

"She called me a hag, Arthur! To my face, she said this!"

Arthur cringed. "She didn't mean it, dear… she's probably upset, what with everything that's happened to her this morning."

That stopped Molly cold. "Arthur?" Her husband pulled her in close and gave her the best hug he could manage. "Arthur, what's happened to my baby?" The anger Molly had felt not two minutes before seemed to drain from the woman. "Is she going to be all right?"

"Er… Yes… I've been assured she'll be fine… but… well… she seems to have gone and gotten herself…"

"OH, ARTHUR! SHE CAN'T BE PREGNANT! SHE'S NOT EVEN ELEVEN YEARS OLD!" From the kitchen came the distinct sounds of a twelve year old boy choking on his morning pumpkin juice.

Arthur tried to figure out the best way to tell his wife, and then decided to just jump into it. "Er… No, not exactly, Molly… I don't think she's had time to get to that point yet, seeing as she's only just been married this morning…"

Molly stiffened in his arms. Slowly, she looked up at her husband. "What do you mean, Arthur? What do you mean, married?"


	3. The Truth, Or Something Like It

**Chapter Three: **_**The Truth, Or Something Like It**_

Albus Dumbledore and Filius Flitwick stepped out of the Floo and into his office. "Well… this is another fine mess we find ourselves in. Why can't things ever be…?" He brought himself up short. Harry Potter was sitting at the breakfast table, toast in mid-bite. For a moment, the irritation he was feeling was visible on his face, but he hurriedly replaced it with his usual, slightly amused expression. "Ah… Harry… I didn't think you'd be here."

Minerva McGonagall sat next to the boy. "He never had a chance to eat breakfast at the Dursleys'… you pulled him out of there while he was cooking it. I felt it best he go ahead and eat, since no doubt this will be a very busy day for him."

"Ah, yes, excellent thinking, Professor." Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry, who was slowly working the piece of toast. The headmaster proudly noted that the boy was carefully taking everything around him in, trying hard not to miss a thing. "Well… Professor Flitwick and I did our best to reconstruct the wards around the Dursley home. Unfortunately for us, we couldn't. Oh, we can add the standard anti-Apparation wards and the usual security measures protecting the house from dark creatures and so on… but of course those wards are as tissue paper to Voldemort. He simply cannot go back to that house for any length of time."

Dumbedore looked grim for a moment. He took his seat at the table and stared a bit disheartedly at his cold poached egg. Sighing, he turned to Harry. "My boy, are you sure… absolutely sure… that nothing was said by either you or your aunt that could be construed as a voluntary negation of the wards? Denying that you were her nephew or she was your aunt? Or that you weren't welcome there any longer?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Professor… last night was actually relatively pleasant, considering."

"Considering?" Flitwick asked the question before McGonagall could.

"Well… they've sort of been ignoring me since I got back from school. I wake up, help in the kitchen, do my chores, and then I'm basically left alone until bed-time. It's been really difficult, too, since I haven't received any mail from my friends." Harry's face lit up for a moment. "Professor… now that I'm out of the Dursleys', do you think I could send some letters to Hermione and Ron?"

McGonagall leaned toward him. "I'm sure you'll get a chance later, Mister Potter. Now pay attention and stick to the subject. This is important."

Harry was chagrined. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, Professor."

"Quite all right, Harry," Dumbledore muttered absently. "I can't think of any way the blood ward would have collapsed like that…"

"Neither can I, Albus. Neither can I." Flitwick leaned back in his seat and ran his hand through his beard. "That sort of ward is dependent on the family bond. As long as Mister Potter is a child in that house, the ward would stand. Now, technically it could still be overpowered, but an assault of that magnitude would have destroyed the house, not just the wards… and likely the houses around it. But you saw it, Albus… except for the wards shattering like they did, nothing was out of the ordinary. It's just another pleasant morning."

"Well… it's a true mystery, then. I'll continue looking into it. In the mean-time, I will need to speak to Arthur and Molly about Harry staying with them for the rest of the summer. The Burrow already has some impressive wards around it…"

"Bill's work, no doubt," McGonagall interrupted.

"No doubt," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I could easily add some special touches to those wards, making them a tough nut to crack. Not as tough as the blood wards, but there it is."

Harry had been taking all of this in, his eyes going from one professor to the other. "So… I'll be able to stay at the Burrow, then? If Mister and Missus Weasley say I can?" His voice carried a hopeful sound.

"I'm certain of it. You'd find it more entertaining, I am sure, than staying here at the castle. It is a drafty, empty place without the joyful sound of children…" Dumbledore tapped his wand on his glass and it filled with an amber liquid. "And I'm sure that by the end of the coming school year, we'll have the wards sorted out and you can go back to stay with your family at the end of term."

"Oh…" Harry suddenly sounded so dejected that the change in mood was clear to all three professors.

"Harry…" McGonagall tried to be delicate. "Is there something that you'd like to tell us about how you were living at your aunt's house? They aren't… mistreating you… are they?"

Harry just shrugged. It wasn't a subject he liked to discuss. "Not really… not any more. I haven't really been beaten in a long while, and I've got a bedroom of my own now. Mostly they just ignore me."

McGonagall's face grew grim. Even the almost always cheerful Flitwick was scowling. "I must say, young man, I was hardly impressed by your uncle and his bluster," the Charms Professor said in as low a voice as he could muster.

Harry just shrugged. It was obvious that he didn't want to get into it. He searched for some way to change the subject, and found it in the rolled up parchment. "Sir… what should I do about this? The letter from Gringotts?" He picked up the parchment and held it out to the headmaster. "It says something about the Potter Family Vault and security. They want me to go and talk to them today."

Dumbledore read the scroll, frowning ever deeper as he went. "I must confess that this makes no sense to me."

"Why is that, Professor?" Harry bit into another piece of toast.

"You aren't scheduled to come into possession of the Potter Family Vault until you reach adulthood, Harry. It's in your parents' will."

"But sir, I've had access to my…" Harry began. He broke off when he saw Dumbledore shake his head.

"No, Harry… the vault you have been using is for the Potter Trust… a separate fund set up to pay for your tuition, your books, your clothing… and to have a little fun with occasionally," the headmaster explained. "This document as if Gringott's considers you an adult," Dumbledore smiled. His eyes twinkled with the absurdity of it all. "You haven't been time travelling, I take it? Or perhaps have been fooling us all into believing you were only twelve when you were really seventeen?"

Flitwick chortled. "Perhaps Mister Potter went found himself a child bride in the weeks since the end of school." The Charms professor nudged Potter and laughed. "You were uncommonly close to Miss Granger last year. Perhaps congratulations are in order."

"But I'm not even twelve! Not for another two weeks! I mean… I like Hermione fine… but she's just a… " Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"You seem to have embarrassed our young guest, Filius," Dumbledore chuckled. "It's all right, Harry… we were all your age once, too." The headmaster read the scroll from the bank one more time. "Hurm. Gringott's treats you like an adult…"

XxxxxxX

Arthur stuck his head up through the entry hole carefully. The tree house had been around since Bill was Ginny's age, and he wasn't sure it could hold his weight any longer. "Ginny… "

His daughter looked around at him with a scared look in her eye. "Daddy… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to yell like that… I don't know what got into me… I didn't mean to say that… Why did I yell at Mum like that?" She'd been crying… was still crying in fact.

Arthur sighed. He wasn't completely sure what was going on, but he knew that it wasn't going to be something they could simply shrug off. Not if what the Unspeakable told him was true. "Sweetheart, come on inside so we can sit down and talk about what's going on, okay? It's probably been a strange morning for all of us. I promise you that there won't be any yelling… we're just going to talk, okay?"

Ginny nodded. She reached a hand out to Arthur and he smiled at her. "Come on, Ginny… it will be fine, I promise." She climbed down behind him, and as soon as she touched the ground he picked her up. He wasn't sure why… he hadn't carried Ginny since she was six or perhaps seven. But it seemed the thing to do. She turned her head and buried it against his neck, all the while holding on to the lapel on his robes.

He noticed the ring she was wearing. _That looks suspiciously like an engagement ring,_ he thought to himself. _Could that diamond be the Soul Stone? I forgot to ask…_ Arthur cleared his throat. "Ginny, darling… where did you get that ring?"

She raised her head and looked at it with a beatific smile. "It was on my bed when I woke up this morning."

"And you just put it on?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah… it was calling to me," Ginny said, dreamily.

"Calling to you? What did it say?" he asked. Arthur carefully topped the stairs to the kitchen porch and put his daughter on her feet at last.

"Nothing, really… it didn't talk to me, Daddy… it… it's almost like it sang to me…" Ginny stared at the ring for a moment. "It's pretty. And it has my name on it."

She opened the door and rushed in, making a bee line straight to her mother. Before Molly could react, Ginny was hugging her tightly and apologizing at the top of her voice. "Oh, Mum! I'm so sorry… I don't know why I said that… I'm sorry, Mum! Please don't hate me…"

Molly buried the sour look underneath a cloak of motherly understanding. "Yes, well… we'll talk about the appropriateness of yelling at your mother later. Right now, you're father and I want to ask you a few questions about your ring…"

"Come sit, Ginny." Arthur pushed a glass of pumpkin juice toward her as she sat across from him. "Now… we're just going to talk about the ring, all right?" His eyes were on his wife as she sat down next to him. She still looked upset, but she nodded.

"Now… Ginny… when exactly did you find the ring?" Arthur asked.

"I found it this morning. The lady in the dream was saying some strange things, and when I woke up I heard something calling me," Ginny said nervously.

Molly frowned. "Something was calling you? What was calling you, dear?"

"The ring, I think. I mean, I couldn't see anything when I got out of bed, and I did check the door and the window. When I sat back down on the bed, there it was. The ring I mean. And it was… calling to me. And when I picked it up I saw it had my name on it, like it was my ring."

"So what did you do then?" Arthur asked, though he already knew.

"I put the ring on. That's all."

Molly looked at Arthur, and then asked, "Did Harry give you the ring?"

"Oh yes!" Ginny's face went vague for a moment. "Wait… no… he wasn't here. So… no… I don't think… " She brightened. "Yes! It was his mother's engagement ring! He gave it to me before he left."

"Left? He left? So he was here?" Molly, despite her promises otherwise, was getting louder by the question.

"No… he wasn't here this morning. He gave it to me before he left!" Ginny said, as if it explained everything.

"Ginny that makes no sense!" Arthur pulled his face, thinking. "He wasn't here, but he gave you the ring before he left?" As far as he knew, Harry Potter had never been to the Burrow. Ron had talked about inviting his school friend over for a week or so during the summer, but… "Sweetheart… you say he left… when was he here?"

Ginny thought about it. "I… I can't remember…"

"You can't remember… all right… do you know where he was going?" Arthur asked. He was trying to get to a new track, because this one was getting them nowhere.

"Yes! He said he was leaving with Ron and Hermione and they were… going… to be gone… but…" Ginny trailed off, looking confused. "I can't remember!"

Molly was exasperated. "Is there anything you can remember?"

Ginny thought about it. "Yes, Mum… I remember something. We have to go get Harry… today… and get him away from those horrid Muggles he lives with. They don't treat him well, and Dobby will only make it worse!"

Arthur stared at his daughter. "Ginny… just how is it that you know how the Muggles Harry Potter lives with treat him?"

"What do you mean? You've seen how they treat him first-hand! Don't you remember? When we went to pick him up for the… the…" Her face fell "… I forget…"

Molly was tired of dancing around it. "Ginny… when Harry gave you that ring, did he tell you that it had a Soul Stone in it?"

Ginny shook her head. "What's a Soul Stone?"

"He didn't tell you?" Molly asked again. "He didn't tell you what would happen if you took the ring?"

"Well…" Ginny's face was a map of utter confusion. "Um… he wasn't here this morning, Mum. I told you! So he couldn't have told me what would happen." She looked up at her mother. "What do you mean, what would happen? What happened? I just put on the ring!"

"No, Ginny… you put on a Soul Stone! That's almost like he force-fed you a Love Potion." Molly was on a roll now. "We're going to contact Professor Dumbledore immediately, and we're going to get him to take this curse off of our daughter! And then we're going to demand that he expel that… that… _**boy!**_" She got out of her chair and stepped toward the fireplace.

"Now, Molly… that's not quite the way…" Arthur rose to intercept her, but it was unnecessary. As soon as he said the first word in disagreement, Molly had turned back.

She was wagged her finger at her husband. "He entrapped our daughter, Arthur! What other possible explanation could there be... The shame of it all! What are people going to think? A ten year old girl…"

"… I'm almost eleven…" Ginny whispered to herself. No one else heard.

"… Getting roped into a marriage like that, just by putting on a ring! That's outrageous, Arthur, and we are not going to stand for it!"

Ginny's head shot up at her mother's words. _What did she just say? Married? Who got married? Me? When did I get married? Who am I married to?_ She could feel a full-blown anxiety attack building… but as soon as the last thought was formed, an answer appeared in her head. _I'm married to Harry Potter. Now and forever…_ and suddenly she was as calm as a meadow on a spring day. All was right with the world.

Molly turned back around and once again headed toward the fireplace. As she passed the staircase, she yelled, "And what are you looking at, you lot! Come down here… if you're going to eavesdrop, you might as well be here for the show. Come on!" One by one, Ron, Percy, George, and Fred came down the stairs. "Sit! And be quiet, for the love of Merlin!" She looked around the sitting room for a moment. "Which one of you has hidden the Floo powder? Ronald! This is entirely your fault! He's YOUR friend, Ronald Weasley! I expected you to take better care of your sister!"

Ron looked stunned. Even when his mother was mad, she usually didn't jump to that sort of odd conclusion. "I'm not even sure what's going on, but somehow it's my fault?"

"Now, Ron… this isn't the time for your cheek," Percy interjected. He turned to Ginny and opened his mouth, but Arthur's look shut him up.

"So… Dad..." Fred leaned in close. "Did we hear right? Ginny's married to Harry Potter?"

Arthur took his glasses off and pinched his nose right between his eyes. "It does appear that way, yes."

"But Dad… she's only ten," Percy whispered. "How can that be legal?"

"… I'm almost eleven…" Ginny whispered again. Still, no one heard her.

"It has something to do with a magical artifact dealing with true love. It's… complicated, boys, and I'm not sure I understood the explanation all the way. It had something to do with two people being soul mates, and the artifact protects and nourishes their love, or something. If one of these artifacts is given by a person to their soul mate, it counts as a legally binding marriage."

"Wow… so Harry Potter's our brother-in-law?" Fred and George had almost joyful expressions on their faces. Percy was scowling, and Ron looked murderous. "Fantastic!"

"I'm going to kill him. OW!" Ron had said this loud enough for Ginny to hear, and without even thinking she had punched him in the arm as hard as she could manage. "What was that for?" Ginny just glared.

"But Dad… even if this thing actually happened… we can just get it negated and everything will be fine. After all, even if Harry did give this thing to Ginny, he didn't likely know what he was doing. He's only a year older than she is after all," Percy said.

"Look, we need to talk to Dumbledore first… there are implications to the entire situation… it's just not as simple as having the marriage annulled… from what the Unspeakable I talked to said, that might not be an option. So let's all wait until we talk to Dumbledore. All right?" Arthur looked from one boy to the other. All of them nodded in acquiescence. Ginny wasn't nodding… she was staring daggers at Ron.

"Found it!" Molly held up the bag of Floo powder. "Now… let's get to the bottom of this!" She knelt and was about to toss the powder into the fire when Arthur arrived just in time to grab her hand.

"Molly, dearest… you're upset. Perhaps I ought to…" He gestured toward the fire.

Molly huffed. "Fine. You do it then." She stood up and walked to the kitchen table. "Don't you glare at your older brother, young lady? You're the one who took a bauble from some boy like a cheap…" Molly's voice failed her. The look her daughter was giving her wasn't that of a child angry at being scolded by their parent, but rather the look of a witch about to cast a curse in righteous anger.

XxxxxxX

Flitwick chortled. "Perhaps Mister Potter went found himself a child bride in the weeks since the end of school." The Charms professor nudged Potter and laughed. "You were uncommonly close to Miss Granger last year. Perhaps congratulations are in order."

"But I'm not even twelve! Not for another two weeks! I mean… I like Hermione fine… but she's just a… " Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"You seem to have embarrassed our young guest, Filius," Dumbledore chuckled. "It's all right, Harry… we were all your age once, too." The headmaster read the scroll from the bank one more time. "Hurm. Gringott's treats you like an adult…"

"Not to worry, Potter… it will all get sorted out," Flitwick said. "Now, headmaster… I was thinking. I need to go to Diagon Alley later today myself. It would be my pleasure to accompany young Potter to Gringott's so he can get whatever it is cleared up. If that's all right with Potter, of course." The little man grinned at Harry, who returned it.

Harry had already decided that, regardless of any other consequence, today couldn't be all that bad if only because he got away from the Dursleys' early. And now not only was Professor Dumbledore sounding uncertain about his ever going back, but one of his favorite professors was offering to take him to Diagon Alley! And to think that when he woke up, he thought the day would be boring. "That would be fine, Professor Flitwick! Thanks."

"Oh, tish tosh… think nothing of it…" Flitwick was interrupted by a roar from the fireplace.

The fire flared green and Arthur Weasley's head appeared. "Professor Dumbledore, are you there? Something… important… has come up and Molly and I need to speak to you about it."

Dumbledore knelt by the fireplace to speak. "Right now is not the best of times, Arthur… something has come up for me, as well. Can I Floo you back tomorrow?"

From somewhere behind Arthur's head, a voice floated through the Floo. Everyone in the room could hear it. "… You tell that old goat we need to see him right bloody now, Arthur…" Arthur's head blushed, as much as it could while wrapped in lime green fire.

"Erm… sorry about that… Molly rather… insists… that you see us this morning. It's a bit of an emergency. Something's come up involving our girl, Ginny…" Arthur looked sheepish.

Dumbledore nodded. "Come through, then." The headmaster turned to Flitwick, McGonagall, and Harry. "Professors, I'm sure Mister Potter would have no objection against using his old room until we get him settled. If you two could…"

Behind him, the fireplace flared as the Weasley's came through. Arthur came first, but Molly brushed past him quickly, shrieking, "YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE!" McGonagall and Flitwick both glanced uneasily at Harry. "DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY! THAT DEVIANT CORRUPTED MY LITTLE GIRL! STOP HIM!" The older woman started slapping around her various pockets, obviously looking for her wand.

Harry was gobsmacked. "What? I did what? I corrupted someone?" He looked from Professor Flitwick to Professor McGonagall. Neither Professor had a clue what was going on.

"Molly, calm down." Arthur wrapped his arms around his wife. "Sit down… let's figure out what's going on before we start throwing curses." He managed to turn Molly back toward one of the plush chairs in front of the headmaster's desk just as Ginny stepped through the fireplace. Arthur immediately directed her to another one of the chairs.

Dumbledore looked at Harry, who was still standing confusedly by the door to the office, and back to Molly. He pursed his lips and said, "Molly, I take it that this problem Arthur mentioned has something to do with young Mister Potter there?"

"Oh, it involves him, all right! He's right in the middle of it! It's his fault all this happened!" Molly twisted in her chair and screamed at Harry, "SHE'S ONLY TEN YOU… YOU… PERVERT!" McGonagall's eyes went wide as she regarded Harry. Flitwick began to eye Harry with some concern.

Dumbledore flicked his eyes toward the girl in question. Ginny was staring at Harry with a rather caring and dreamy expression, and was utterly ignoring her mother. "I'm almost eleven," she whispered, so softly that only the headmaster heard. It was only his thick moustache and beard that allowed him to hide his quick smile.

Dumbledore turned his eyes to Harry. "Molly, am I to understand that Harry has somehow made…" it hurt Dumbledore to even use a euphemism "… improper advances of a physical nature against your daughter?" Harry's eyes grew as wide as saucers. The young man began shaking his head in denial.

"YES!" "NO!" Molly and Ginny yelled simultaneously. The fact that Ginny yelled got Molly's attention.

"Ginny, be quiet, now… let me and your father handle this." Molly opened her mouth to continue speaking, but Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Molly, one moment… Harry, come here." Dumbledore gestured the boy forward. "Do you know why Missus Weasley would accuse you of such a thing?"

Harry swallowed as he approached. "No, Professor… I'd never hurt Ginny! She's my best mate's sister! Besides, I've only met her once, and it was for maybe five minutes on Platform 9¾ before the train left for school last year! I barely spoke to her!"

Dumbledore was silent for a long while. "Arthur…" The headmaster was looking directly at Molly while he spoke. "Would you be so kind as to tell us all the circumstances around this rather… disturbing accusation?"

Arthur nodded. He cleared his throat and said, "Certainly, Headmaster. You see… erm… This morning, I was notified by one of the Unspeakables at the Department of Mysteries that a record had been made regarding the transfer of a Soul Stone. Apparently, this morning at about seven, my daughter Ginny received and accepted a Soul Stone from Harry here."

Dumbledore backed up involuntarily until he was leaning on the edge of his desk. "A Soul Stone? This morning? Really?" The old man shook his head and chuckled. "What was it you said this morning, Filius? Wondering whether Mister Potter had gone out and found himself a bride? Apparently the only thing wrong with your joke was who the young lady would be."

"They aren't really married! Not really, Professor! They can't be… she's only ten!" Molly was visibly shaking. "We came to you to find out how to get this… this… reversed."

"Molly, I'm sorry… but there is no reversing this. A Soul Stone has been given from one soul mate to the other, and the transfer has been approved by the Magic of Love itself. Your daughter, for good or ill, is irreversibly linked to Mister Potter, now and forever," Dumbledore sighed. "It certainly explains the wards shattering like so much spun glass… Harry and Ginny are married, now. Which means that in the eyes of the law, at least, they are adults… which mean the wards came down." He looked down at the letter from Gringott's, still clutched in one of his hands. "Ah… and I suppose this explains the mystery of the Bank Letter…"

"Well…" Dumbledore shrugged as he circled his desk to sit down. "I certainly never saw any of this coming.

"What do you mean adults?" Arthur asked.

"They're legally married, Arthur. Mister and Missus Harry J. Potter. In the eyes of the law, that makes them adults. Now, I am by no means suggesting we allow them to make all their own decisions as if they were physically adults… but as far as the law is concerned, they are emancipated…"

"WHAT?" Molly bellowed.

"Yes, I am afraid that's what it means." Dumbledore steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips. "Harry… why did you risk giving Miss Weasley…" Ginny glared at him "… my apologies… why did you risk giving Missus Potter a Soul Stone, dear boy?"

"I haven't given Ginny anything, Professor! I've barely even spoken to her in my entire life!" Harry looked to Ginny, who was gazing back at him with some strange look in her eyes that made his stomach flutter for some reason.

"Then you deny giving Miss Weasley a Soul Stone this morning?"

"Professor," Harry began, "until you came and got me, I was at Privet Drive cooking breakfast all morning! How could I have given her this Stone thing?"

"The boy has a point, Albus," Minerva McGonagall said, stepping forward.

"Professor, I don't even know what a Soul Stone _is. _I certainly don't know where to go to get one so I can give it to Ginny." Harry turned toward the girl, only to find her almost nose to nose with him. He looked into her eyes, with a vaguely hurt and confused look.

"Hello, Harry. I've missed you so much." Ginny brought a hand up to his face in a gentle caress. For the second time, the open bond closed. Harry's eyes widened as the power of the Soul Stone… much gentler this time… rushed in to fill the empty places in his soul. He smiled at Ginny, willing her to feel the great love he felt for her.

"It's you!" Harry said quietly. "I thought I'd never see you again. We were apart for so long…"

"Yes, it's me…" Ginny smiled in reply. "It doesn't matter that we were apart. We're together now and that's all we need to worry about."

Everyone in the room was quiet for the longest time as the two children simply stared into each other's eyes. Finally, Dumbledore sighed once more. "And that, I'm afraid, is that…"


	4. Living Conditions

**A/N: Part of this chapter was written by the incomparable AlianneOfTortall. I feel honored having someone so talented want to help work out part of this rather ambitious project.**

**Chapter Four: **_**Living Conditions…**_

"So what do we do, Professor?" Molly Weasley was staring at her daughter and her… she refused to use the word "husband" when talking about a boy of only twelve. It was ridiculous… outrageous… it had to be a huge mistake. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the boy, sitting there with an innocent grin on his face. _Innocent… Hah! _ She thought to herself. _There's nothing innocent about this boy… He trapped my daughter in a love spell. My innocent baby… victimized by this… Lothario._

The two children had been remarkably quiet once they declared their unending love for each other. Hand-in-hand, they had moved to one of Dumbledore's chairs. Ginny had actually begun to climb up into Harry's lap until headmaster had magically widened the seat. After that, they'd been listening to everything said about them without interrupting.

"There isn't anything you can do, Molly. I'm sorry… if it is any consolation at all, know this: Harry will die before he hurts her, or allows someone else to hurt her." Both Harry and Ginny began nodding at this, as if to confirm the headmaster's words. Dumbledore smiled at them. "Molly, you need to accept this. They are soul-bonded now. There isn't any way to reverse it, or remove it, and these two children would fight you tooth and nail if you tried. They are as they will be for the rest of their lives."

"But she's only ten, Headmaster." Molly's lips thinned into a line. "She can't possibly know what love is."

"Molly…" Dumbledore began. He sighed and cut himself off. "I'm sorry… but there's no way around it. Harry gave her the Soul Stone this morning. There is no way he could have done that unless she was, indeed, his one true love. She accepted the Soul Stone from him. Again, she could not have done that unless he was her one true love. Obviously, they had some idea of what love was."

"I… um… sorry to interrupt." Harry blushed as every eye turned to him.

"No, no, dear boy… by all means, what were you going to say?" Dumbledore smiled, trying to make Harry more comfortable.

"Well, sir… I didn't give Ginny the Soul Stone this morning," Harry said. "I was at home all morning cooking breakfast. I don't even know what a Soul Stone is, Professor."

Dumbledore's mouth fell open in shock. "You didn't…" He looked at Molly and Arthur. "But you said he gave…"

"She said he gave it to before he left, but can't remember when it was that he left. As far as we know, he's never been to the Burrow," Arthur said with a sigh. "I've no idea what's going on. I do know that he was never at the Burrow this morning."

McGonagall frowned for a moment. "Harry… are you sure you didn't give her some friendly token of your affection, perhaps, not knowing what it was? Just in the spirit of friendship, mind you?"

"Minerva, are you suggesting that Potter gave Miss Weasley a Soul Stone _by accident_? Such a thing is unheard of!" Flitwick was bouncing up and down in excitement. "If everything I've read about Soul Stones is true, such a thing is _impossible!_"

"Not necessarily, Filius," Dumbledore interjected. "If these two children were, indeed, meant for each other and one of them, as Minerva suggested gave the other a token of affection without being aware of the presence of a Soul Stone, I believe the Stone would accept the transfer even if the intent wasn't present. It's the love that's important after all."

"So if it's all wrapped up in the Stone, let's just get rid of it, then." Molly reached for the ring on her daughter's hand.

"NO!" Two voices yelled simultaneously. Flitwick and Dumbledore both had expressions of sheer terror on their faces. "Molly…" Dumbledore started. "If you can never accept anything else I tell you, accept this please: you do not _ever _want to attempt to forcibly remove the Stone from Ginny's hand. If she wants to voluntarily hand it over, that's fine… but never try to take it from her. The consequences are… nightmarish…" The headmaster turned to Ginny. "May I see your ring, my dear? I'll give it right back to you once I'm done."

"Certainly, Professor!" Ginny slid the ring from her finger and handed it to Dumbledore.

His eyes widened. "Oh my… I recognize this ring. It's the engagement ring James Potter gave to Lily Evans. Until today I had thought it was locked within the Potter Family Vault. How did it get out of the vault, to be received by Miss Weasley, I wonder." He read the inscription, nodding the entire time. "This is the Stone of Burning Bright, an heirloom of the Ancient Line of Potters."

The older man turned to Harry. "Did you somehow access your family vault, Harry? How did you take this out of Gringott's?"

"I haven't been to Gringott's since Hagrid took me, sir. Before Ginny showed me that ring, I'd never seen it before."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, staring into Harry's eyes. "Harry… did you give Ginny the ring before you left?"

"Yes, I did that, Professor," Harry said.

"And when did you leave, Harry?" The headmaster's gaze seemed to burn into Harry's.

"I… um… I don't…" Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry Professor."

"Perfectly all right, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "Well… we have a mystery before us."

"We have more than a mystery before us, Headmaster! What are we supposed to do now?" Molly's anger was fizzling out, slowly. "You said they are legally adults, but there is no way on this Earth that I am allowing my _**ten year old**_ daughter to live on her own. They couldn't support themselves, for one thing…"

"I assure you, Mister Potter has the material resources to live quite well on his own, should he choose to," Dumbledore said quietly.

"That's beside the point! He's eleven! Ginny's ten! There is just no way we could accept these two _**children **_living on their own! How would they eat? Where would they sleep? How would they live, for Merlin's sake?"

"I quite agree with you, Molly. It is important that they be looked after. They are far too young to have this thrust upon them, but what's done is done! Now we must insure that they are safe, and happy, and that they can grow up healthy.

"We don't want to live by ourselves, Mum," Ginny said. "Right, Harry?" Beside her, Harry nodded. She turned back to her mother. "We'll stay with you and Dad until I go to Hogwarts."

"What? What do you mean 'we'll stay'?" Molly asked. "Harry will have to go back to his Muggle relatives until start of term."

"Unfortunately, he cannot do that. He wouldn't be safe. An apparent side effect of the Soul Stone transfer was the complete collapse of the blood wards surrounding his aunt's house. He cannot live there," Dumbledore explained. "We were, in fact, planning on contacting you about the possibility of his staying with you during the summer, since he is such good friends with Ronald."

"Harry is going to stay with me, Mum. We're staying together." Ginny's voice was flat and final.

Arthur interceded before Molly could speak. "Well, we'd certainly be willing to have Harry over in the summer. He can stay in Ron's room. I'm sure Ron will enjoy the company!"

Molly was quiet for a moment. She sighed, finally, and said, "I suppose that would be okay. He's very young, too, and as you say he needs some looking after." The angry defender of her children was slowly being replaced by the mother who wanted to take care of all children. Harry was so skinny-looking.

"Excellent! I'm glad that's settled." Dumbledore stood. "Arthur, if I could impose upon you just once more… seeing as he will be staying with you, I suppose it would be most appropriate if you could escort young Harry here to Gringott's." The headmaster held up the roll of parchment he was still holding. "Apparently there is an important matter he needs to look after… something to do with his parents' vault."

"Oh… er… certainly, Headmaster." Arthur looked at Harry. "It's not his fault, I suppose… just one of those odd things that occur." His own parental instincts had been triggered at the sight of the boy. He _was _skinny, too skinny… and the clothing didn't help. He'd have to see what he could do about getting the boy something decent to wear. And Molly would be force-feeding Harry before too long, just to get him to put on some weight.

"Well… I suppose one more child won't kill us. And he is family, I suppose." Arthur smiled at Harry, who beamed back at the older man in return.

"That's the spirit, Arthur. And he won't be a burden, I assure you. As I said, he's more than capable of looking after his own needs, as pertains to money. I'm sure he'd be willing to help out with his own support."

"Now, Albus… we're not going to take advantage of the boy. That wouldn't be right," Arthur scowled.

"Arthur, think of it this way… would it be right for a son to not help his wife's family when they were in need?" Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "He's your son now, Arthur. Even though he's twelve, he's your daughter's husband. That's not charity… its one member of a family helping out another."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't thought through all the implications of suddenly having a son-in-law. "Yes… well… even so… there's helping out occasionally and there's taking advantage. We're going to be careful to not take advantage."

"Of course you won't, Arthur. No one could think otherwise." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse," Molly said, finally.

"Oh, I have no doubt it will get worse, if you don't mind me saying so," Minerva McGonagall said, clucking her tongue. "This marriage had to have been recorded in the Ministry Office of Magical records. By now _**someone**_ in that office has sold the information to the _Daily Prophet_. Probably _Witch Weekly_ as well. In fact, I'm fairly sure the only news source out there that doesn't know about this is the _Quibbler_, and even then it would only be because Xeno Lovegood finally caught one of those ridiculous beasties he's always going on about."

"Ah… well… something to look forward to, then." Arthur sighed again. He was doing that a lot today.

XxxxxxX

Arthur popped out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron and turned quickly enough to catch Harry as the boy stumbled out of the fireplace. "I've got you. There's a lad." Without warning, Ginny came bursting through, slamming right into Harry and knocking both children to the ground. He quickly pulled the pair to their feet just as Molly Weasley came out of the fireplace herself.

"Don't worry, kids… you'll get the hang of it. It's just a matter of practice." Arthur dusted soot from the two children's shoulders. "Now, let's head over to Gringott's and take care of this…" he held up the letter "… and then I think we need to go to Madame Malkins or Gladrags and get you some clothing, Harry. I'm sure this is what the stylish Muggle boy is wearing, but to the Wizarding eye, they look like someone's baggy hand-me-downs…"

"Well, actually…" Harry began. Rather than finish his sentence, he snapped his mouth shut.

"All right, then… let's be off!" Arthur took Harry's hand, Harry held Ginny's, and Ginny held her mother's. Thus, as a human chain, they headed out into Diagon Alley. The alley wasn't as busy as it was a year ago, and so this time the trip to the goblin bank was much quicker than the one he'd taken with Hagrid.

Molly and Ginny hung back as Arthur and Harry approached one of the service desks. The goblin finished what he was writing, and then looked up. "May I be of service?" It sneered.

"Yes, sir. I have a letter requesting I come in and deal with some things regarding my family vault, and security changes and such…" Harry said. He had never been that comfortable around goblins. To him, they always looked as if they were about to take a bite out of you.

"Security changes and such…" The goblin muttered. "Do you have this letter, sir?" Harry nodded and turned it over. The goblin read it, slowly, twice, and then nodded. "Very well, Mister Potter. Let me escort you and your bride into one of our conference rooms. I'll inform the Honored Rogluk that you are here; he is your account manager. And many congratulations on this your day of mating. May you have many sons and may they be strong and productive."

Harry perked up when the goblin spoke of Ginny as "your bride". "Thank you!" He motioned Ginny and Molly over. The goblin unlocked the door and gestured them in, but when Arthur started in the Goblin stopped him. "This is a confidential meeting, sir. Only the account holders are permitted. You'll have to wait in the lobby until they are done."

"But… they're children. She's our daughter," Arthur protested.

"Ah… then my congratulation to you as well on the day of your daughter's mating. May she have many strong and productive sons. Please wait in the lobby." The goblin was adamant. Harry shrugged apologetically at Arthur as the door closed behind him and Ginny.

For the first time, Arthur felt it… that sense of loss all father's who have daughters feel, when they realize that, while they aren't being kicked out of their daughter's lives they aren't necessarily the center of her universe anymore. And it hurt.

XxxxxxX

Mere minutes after being shown into the conference room, Ginny and Harry were joined by a large, truly ugly-looking goblin who introduced itself as the Honored Rogluck. "Mister Potter… Missus Potter. Greetings on this day of your mating. It's always glad tidings when one of the Twelve Ancient Houses marries."

Harry and Ginny both blushed at that remark. Harry wasn't sure what was meant by "Twelve Ancient Houses", but he took it the way it was meant. "Thank you, sir. Um… sir… I'm sorry to ask, but what was this all about? I mean… why the letter?"

The goblin inhaled through its nose and held it for a moment. "Mister Potter, you've been able to access the Potter Trust vault prior to today. It was set up as a way to pay for your tuition and any needed supplies, plus to give you a small but appropriate supply of pocket money. However, it is not the primary Vault owned by your family. Because of your recent marriage…" the goblin nodded toward Ginny "… you are now eligible to access the entirety of your parents' fortune. I need you to sign certain documents authorizing the re-absorption of the Trust vault into the primary Potter vault. In addition, I am certain you wish to add your new bride to the Vault's security spells, thus allowing her to access it as well. It would hardly be proper to have your wife burned to a cinder while she's trying to get the grocery money." The thing laughed, and it was perhaps the creepiest thing Harry had ever heard.

The signing of documents took no time at all… there were only two pages to be signed. Adding Ginny to the security took slightly longer. Not only did she have to sign several sheets of parchment, in the end both Harry and Ginny had to prick their fingers and seal the document in blood. As they watched, the blood soaked into the parchment and disappeared.

"There… now Missus Potter will be able to enter the Vault without triggering the anti-thief spells." The goblin made to stand. "I'm sure you'll want to visit the Potter vault in order to inspect the contents. The gold transfer from the Trust vault has occurred automatically and your old vault has been declared empty. Here is the new Vault key." The goblin passed it to Harry, who nodded in thanks. "As that is all, I shall take my leave."

The door behind Harry and Ginny clicked open. They stepped out into the lobby, still a bit confused about what exactly had happened. They spotted Arthur and Molly waiting uncomfortably and ran over to them. "Guess what, Dad!" Harry said without any hesitation at all. "We're rich! We need to go down to the Potter vault to take a look around and see what's in there. That's what Mister Rogluck said. While we're down there, I can pick up some money for the clothes."

Arthur had been thrown off by being called 'dad' so it took a moment to react. "All right, Harry…" Molly had heard it too, and was alternately frowning and smiling. The smile finally won. She mouthed _Dad? _at Arthur, who shrugged.

Harry and Ginny led her parents back to the counter, where the vault key was presented. The roller-coaster ride to the old vault was long, but this one was spectacular and seemed to never end. Harry had asked about the difference.

"The deeper the vault, the larger the vault," their goblin escort, Griphook, said. "The indicated vault is one that belongs to one of the Twelve Ancient Houses, the Potters. It is thus one of the largest vaults in the facility."

Arthur interrupted. "The Twelve Houses… really? I didn't know the Potters were one of the Twelve Houses. I thought that… well… since Harry's the last of the Potters, the house would have been… I don't know… dissolved or something similar."

"That would only happen if last Potter dies without a male heir. Then, and only then, would one of the twelve great families be removed, and the next ancient of families advances in their place. Watch your heads," the goblin called as the cart took a particularly sharp dip under an outcropping of rock.

"When was the last time a family was replaced?" Harry asked. The subject sounded fascinating. He loved learning about Wizarding culture, and to find out that he was a part of some ancient tradition appealed to him.

"1690, when the Malfoys were advanced to fill the space left by the Darcys."

"Really? You mean all that talk about being from an old and noble family, and they're all Johnny Come Lately?" Harry almost bounced in his seat at the news. "So… erm… if I don't have any sons… when the time comes… who'd replace the Potters?"

"The next family in prominence is the Gamp family," Griphook said. "Not long now."

"So where are the Weasleys in line?" Arthur asked, casually.

The goblin turned to look the man in the eyes. "There are seventeen Families between the Weasleys and a place in the Twelve Families."

"Really? How fascinating… that's closer than I ever thought." Arthur said to himself as they finally coasted to a stop.

"Vault Eleven." Griphook got out of the cart and motioned Harry and Ginny to follow him. "Account-holders only," he cautioned as Molly made to get out of the cart. "The vault only recognizes the account-holders, Madame. It is not safe for you in there. Please note that I am not entering the vault, either."

Arthur gently took one of Molly's arms and kept her from getting out of the cart. "It will be all right, Molly… we have to start accepting this situation. This is a good way to start." Ginny and Harry watched this exchange with a growing look of sadness. They were aware that something was going on, but weren't sure what.

"Key, please?" Griphook asked, holding his hand out.

The children stepped into the vault and their mouths hit the floor. Gold, silver, and bronze coins were everywhere. Artwork, statues, old furniture… the room was filled end to end with artifacts. It would take weeks to figure out what was in the vault precisely.

Ginny was gobsmacked. Harry already had the experience of his original vault to fall back on, despite this one being much, much bigger. "Come on, Gin… let's grab some money and get out of here…"

XxxxxxX

The Floo at the Burrow flared green and Harry, Arthur, Molly, and Ginny stepped out as a group. "Percy! Fred! George! Ron! Everyone gather at the table! Family discussion! Now, please" She looked around for damage to the house. They'd left Percy in charge, but there was no guarantee that the twins wouldn't stuff him in a closet and go rampaging around. Everything, at the very least, looked normal.

Ron was down first. He glared at Harry as he sat down. "So… what's he doing here?"

"Ron, he's still your mate!" Ginny yelled.

"Not after trapping my sister with some sort of love spell, he's not!" Ron harrumphed. The righteous indignation was flowing from the boy like waves on the ocean.

"He didn't trap me with anything, Ron… Dumbledore said that this was meant to be or it wouldn't have happened at all!" Ginny said. "It just… happened sooner than anyone thought it would have."

"What happened sooner than anyone thought it would have?" Percy asked, finally arriving.

"Ginny marrying Harry. Apparently, they are legitimately soul mates, or else the magic wouldn't have taken effect," Arthur explained.

Fred and George joined the family at the table, just as Percy asked, "But what about the marriage…that can't be legal, can it? I mean… that's not actually happened, right?"

"Well… apparently it has," Molly said. At her words, the table exploded in voices as all four of the Weasley sons offered comment, protest, or both.

"One at a time, boys!" Arthur said, as loudly as he ever got. "We can answer your questions… just one at a time,"

"What does it mean, they're married? I mean, are they going to be living of somewhere, sleeping in the same bed, kissing all the time like you and Mum do?" Ron asked, completely scandalized. "I mean, they're both kids!"

"And what are you, Ronald Weasley? An old man?" Ginny yelled. She was obviously getting angry.

"No, but I'm older than either of you!"

"Boys!" Molly called. "Let's still to the subject. No, they won't be living elsewhere… Harry's moving into the Burrow, permanently. Harry will be staying with you in your room, Ron. Ginny stays in her room as normal, and no, there won't be any kissing all the time. Life will go on like it always has, and we're all going to pretend like everything is fine. Because everything will be fine. Nothing has changed, really. This is just… one of those things…"

Arthur looked skeptical, but didn't say anything.

Ginny tapped her father on the shoulder. "Dad… while you and Mum explain things, can I show Harry around? He's never been here, before… you don't exactly need us for this…"

XxxxxxX

When Ginny suggested that she give Harry a tour of the land around the Burrow, he agreed happily. It seemed as though she were surrounded by a nimbus of light... and he wanted to follow that around wherever it went. He was dimly aware of other people (he wondered if Mrs. Weasley would stop huffing at him any time soon), but Ginny was the only one in color. He grasped her hand in his and they stepped out the door.

"There's the Quidditch pitch," Ginny pointed. "It… it isn't really a Quidditch pitch, but… my brothers play there... and I do too when I can sneak one of their brooms out."

"You like Quidditch?" Harry beamed. There were many wonderful things about Ginny, and he discovered something new almost every minute. Sometimes even twice a minute. "I love Quidditch! Are you a Cannons fan like Ron? Or... I heard that a lot of people support Puddlemere United."

"I like the Holyhead Harpies," Ginny said enthusiastically. "Did you know that they're the only all-female Quidditch team in the league?"

They carried on talking about Quidditch and their mutual love for the wizard sport until they reached a small pond toward the back of the property. The Burrow may be small for the amount of people it contained, but the land it stood on sprawled and by the time they reached it, Harry had started to sweat through his shirt. He gazed longingly at the water.

Ginny was apparently able to read his thoughts. "Let's go in!" Her shirt hit the ground, and Harry's wasn't long after. He hopped on one foot, and then the other, trying to pull off his jeans, underpants, socks, and shoes all at the same moment. He almost had it -- but his foot caught on his jeans and he went sprawling. Ginny giggled. "Last one in is a pile of dragon droppings!"

She shrieked when he disentangled himself from his attacking clothes and chased after her. She'd had a head start, but Harry had longer legs, and they hit the water at the same moment. It was cold... far colder than he had been expecting, and he gasped. Water streamed down his back as he caught his breath. He'd just gotten used to it and was looking around for Ginny—

And found his legs pulled right out from under him and he was fully submerged in the water once more. He reached out blindly, felt the curve of a small elbow not his own, grabbed it, and hauled her closer to him. He stood up again, keeping Ginny close. "Playing a bit rough, Ginny?" He grinned at her. Then, without warning, he lifted her by the waist and threw her up and away. The look of shock on her face when she splashed back down was priceless.

This began a war that was three parts laughter, and one part actual splashing and dunking.

"Time to come out!" Arthur called. "Come on! We need to have a little chat!"

Ginny immediately shrieked. "We're naked, Dad!"

"Exactly," Arthur said. Harry froze, glad that the water was up to his waist and that Mr. Weasley could not see anything through the water. Then he did something for which Harry would always be grateful: he turned his back. Mortified, and desperately hoping that Mr. Weasley had only inferred the nakedness from the clothes piled up on the shore, and not because he had seen any flailing bits, Harry scampered and pulled his clothes on with remarkable speed considering the fact that he was wet.

Ginny threw on her dress and pulled up her knickers just as Harry zipped his jeans. "We're decent now, Dad."

"Er," Mr. Weasley looked extremely uncomfortable. "I don't think the two of you should... should be naked around each other."

"Why not?" Ginny asked, astonished.

"Well... it just -- I don't think your mother..."

"But Dad!" Ginny said. "It was hot, and we wanted to swim!"

"Would you have gone swimming naked with your brothers?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Of course not," Ginny said immediately. "But... it's different with Harry."

Mr. Weasley turned bright red and mumbled something under his breath that Harry did not quite catch. Harry could dimly understand why Mr. Weasley might be upset... but this was Ginny! Being with her was more natural than breathing. Surely Mr. Weasley could understand that...

"Sir, it's just -- we were just having fun," Harry said lamely. He spread his hands in a placating gesture. "We just didn't even think about it."

Mr. Weasley gazed at him intently for several tense moments. Finally, he sighed. "I believe you. Just try -- _please _-- to bring swimming things next time. And... don't tell your mother. She's a little... fragile at the moment." He performed a Drying Charm on the both of them and muttered, "glad it wasn't Molly..." Then, louder, "let's get back to the house. Lunch is almost ready."

Harry and Ginny grasped hands again and dutifully followed behind Mr. Weasley. The older man glanced back, took in the entwined fingers, and turned bright red, though he did not appear to be angry. "No -- I don't want -- the two of you are _not allowed _to -- to -- to play 'Healer' or anything like that."

Harry exchanged a dumbfounded look with Ginny. "What?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Sorry," Mr. Weasley muttered. "Glad you don't -- there were two Muggle girls from the village... Fred and George were _ten_..."

Harry did not quite understand, but he sensed that Mr. Weasley would not explain that particular comment. _What exactly is playing 'Healer'? Maybe I'll ask the twins..._


	5. I've Got Seconds To Live

**Chapter Five: **_**I've Got Seconds To Live**_

Ron Weasley was slow to awaken. He always had been.

He sat up in bed, trying to rub the grogginess out of his head by pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He stretched impressively, yawning all the while. After he was done with the morning exertions, he stared blankly around the room, as if waiting for his personal motor to kick in.

Minutes passed before he realized he was staring at the camp bed that had been set up for Harry. He studied the blanket-covered lump in the bed, not really knowing why the lump confused him so. It was an odd-shaped lump, he decided, not the proper shape for a soon-to-be twelve year old boy. A few more minutes of slow reflection led Ron to the realization that there were, in fact, two people in the camp bed, facing each other under the covers.

The other person in the camp bed was his sister, Ginny.

_No way. No way in bloody hell..._ His generally blank demeanor sank quickly into a simmering anger. _Those gits! Harry! Messing around with _my_ little sister! And Ginny! Playing 'Healer and Patient' with my best friend!_

He stood, fully intending to tip the bed over. Getting dumped to the floor would be just what they were asking for, snuggling up like that... but then he stopped. Harry and Ginny were still soundly asleep. A memory, three or four years old now, floated up out of his subconscious. It was a memory of a terrible storm that had raged about the Burrow all night. Ginny, terrified of the noise and the lightning, had crawled into bed with her big brother, who if the truth were told was more than a little frightened himself. The two of them had slept just like Harry and Ginny now slept.

Ron stewed it over in his mind. Shrugging, he thought, _Not my lookout. When Mum finds them together in bed and blows her top, it's their own fault._ The thought caused a smug little smile to alight on his face. With that, he decided it was definitely time for breakfast. Ron carefully shut the door behind him and took the staircase down. At the landing that separated Ginny's room from the twins, he waved at his mother. "Good morning, Mum! Beautiful day!" He didn't see her return the greeting with an odd look.

Once in the kitchen, he sat down at the table and nibbled on a piece of toast. It was the only thing that had been laid out so far, but that was okay. Ron cocked an ear toward the staircase and waited for the show to begin.

Act one began with his mother's shriek. He heard "Ginny! Has anyone seen Ginny! She's not in her bed!" followed by a hurried, intense pounding on the door to the twins' room. "Boys! Is your sister in there? Get up and go check the paddock! Check outside, boys!" Ron listened as his mother fairly sprinted up the staircase. She pounded on Percy's door next. "Percy! Is your sister... no? Get dressed! Your sister is missing! We need to find her!" Footsteps as Molly stamped over to the bedroom she shared with Arthur. "Arthu... oh good, you're dressed! Go check in the village! Check at the Lovegoods' house! Maybe she... What? No! Ginny's missing! I need you to... WHAT! What are you playing at, asking that question? Arthur William Weasley! I demand..."

One by one Ron's older brothers came down into the kitchen. All three of them were still in their nightshirts, but they were slowly, clumsily trying to dress themselves. It wasn't a very successful effort. "What is Mum going on about, now?" Percy asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Ginny," Ron said, relishing the moment, "is not in her bed. From my guess, she hasn't been for pretty much the entire night."

"No? Where's she gone then?" George asked. He was trying to put the wrong shoe on his left foot. "Is she outside? What's Mum on about?"

"She found other accommodations last night," Ron said. His voice was dripping with as much sarcasm as he was capable of injecting into his voice.

There was silence, like the eye of a hurricane. Then, "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOU ARE DOING! GET OUT OF THAT BED AT ONCE! IT'S NOT DECENT! GO GET... ARTHUR WHAT ARE YOU... NO I WON'T SETTLE... ARTHUR! WHY?" There was a long silence, after which Ron could hear the sound of his mother's footsteps on the stairs.

Percy looked to Ron. "You mean to say?" Ron just nodded, enthusiastically, causing Percy to look a little ill. Fred caught on almost immediately, but said nothing. "Well... what do you think Mum and Dad are going to do?'

"How do you..." Ron broke off as their mother arrived. She still looked rather angry. Saying nothing, she entered the kitchen proper and began making breakfast. Arthur, Harry, and Ginny appeared immediately thereafter. They joined the boys at the table, where Arthur made sure to separate Harry and Ginny by as large a space as possible. Harry ended up between Arthur and Percy, while Ginny was placed on Ron's far side, where she'd sit next to her mother.

The silence grew thicker and thicker until finally Percy spoke. "You shouldn't have done that to Mum, Ginevra." He wasn't looking at her, but was rather staring at the table. "You know how she feels about all this."

"Percy..." Arthur cautioned.

Percy looked to his father for a moment, and then continued. "It just isn't... proper... a girl of your age, sleeping in a bed with some boy. It's not right. You're far too young to be... doing that."

"Doing what, Percy? We just slept together." Ginny turned to Fred and George. "What is so funny? Why are you sniggering like that?"

"She's got a point, Perce..." Fred said. "They were only sleeping together." Next to him, George only laughed louder.

Behind them, Molly's movements were getting more and more mechanical.

"Boys, this is no time for joking. We need to discuss some important ground rules that Molly and I will expect followed as long as you live under this roof. Do you understand?" He looked to Harry, who nodded sullenly.

Ginny glared at him. "There is nothing wrong with the two of us sleeping in the same bed," she said, defiantly.

A frying pan clanged in the sink, making everyone jump. Molly spun on her heel. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, I don't know where you get the idea --"

"Potter," Ginny interrupted.

Molly's train of thought immediately derailed. "What?"

Ginny stared at her mother for a moment. Quietly, she said, "Potter. Ginevra Molly Potter, remember? We're as married as you and Dad are."

George finally broke his silence. "Hey, if they're married like Dumbledore says, it's going to happen sooner or later, right? Is it really our business?"

"Keep out of this, George," Arthur warned. When Fred opened his mouth, his father merely shook his head. Harry was trying to burn a hole in the table with his eyes. He hadn't lifted his head once during the entire conversation.

Molly was still talking to Ginny. "You're only ten. Even if you're married according to some ancient magical... thing... you're still only ten and you have no business sleeping in the same bed with a boy."

"Why?" Harry finally asked. He looked at Arthur, with honest confusion in his eyes. "I don't understand why it's improper. I mean... we just... slept. We talked for a little bit, but we didn't stay up too late, or make too much noise... we didn't get out of bed to play games while everyone else was asleep... we just... fell asleep. What is wrong with that?"

Arthur's mouth fell open. "Er..." He looked to his sons and stopped talking. After a moment he said, "Boys, the garden needs de-gnoming. Get to it. Percy, Fred, George, Ron... go!"

XxxxxxX

Harry was more than a little confused and he suspected that he was not fully awake yet. He searched his muddled head and could find no explanation for several things. Why was Molly so angry? Why were the twins laughing? Why did Percy seem annoyed with them sleeping together too? Even Ron had appeared to know something Harry did not...

Harry was struck with a sudden thought. "Is this about playing Doctor? Because I--"

"Playing Doctor?" Molly was confused.

"He means playing Healer, mum," Ginny muttered.

"WHAT?" Molly shouted. "PLAYING - NO! I WON'T ALLOW--"

"He doesn't even know what it is." Ginny said. "He just knows that Dad said that we weren't to do it."

Molly sputtered into silence, grimacing. Harry chanced a glance at Arthur; he was beet red and had his head in his hands. "Those people who raised you... they never told you anything about…?"

"They didn't like it when I asked questions..." Harry said hesitantly. They had told him some stuff, but, thinking back, Harry wasn't sure if they hadn't lied to him about everything. He wondered what this had to do with sleeping with girls. He _knew _his Aunt and Uncle had never said a word about sleeping with girls.

Molly dropped several sausages onto his plate, and Harry bit into it with relief. It felt good to do something normal, while everything else (except Ginny) seemed very, very strange. He began to suspect that there was something else about girls and boys sleeping together in the same bed. Maybe Fred and George did that with the Muggle girls too... or maybe people played Healer in a bed?

Arthur sighed. "I can't believe this is happening," he muttered under his breath. Harry fervently agreed.

"Just tell him, Dad!" Fred shouted, laughing. His head was peeking in through the open window; George's was there too, and both of them were grinning slyly.

"Get OUT!" Molly shouted. She raised her wand and the window banged closed, missing her sons' heads by a hair. She then cast a Silencing Charm.

"Harry," she said, resolutely not looking at Harry. "When boys and girls sleep together, sometimes they have babies."

Harry stood up from the table so fast that he knocked his chair over. "Babies?!" he said loudly. "You mean - she - Ginny and I - we could be _parents_?"

"No!" Molly said. "No, thank Merlin. No, no, no."

Harry righted his chair, and fell into it with a sigh of relief. "We aren't ready for babies. You really don't think that we'll have a baby after last night, do you?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No," Arthur said firmly. "You don't just... sleep in the same bed to have babies."

"It's a very special hug," Molly said. "When a man and a woman are married - and _older than seventeen_ - they lay in bed and hug."

"We did hug," Ginny whispered, horrified. "We did, didn't we, Harry? Oh, no! Mum, why didn't you tell me before?"

"There are hugs, and then there are special hugs," Molly said. Harry frowned. All of Ginny's hugs were special. He was not ready to be a parent... he was only eleven years old! He would not even be ready to be married if he and Ginny had not something special happened. His heart starting thumping in his chest, and he exchanged wide-eyed looks with Ginny. "No," Molly said a bit testily. "You still haven't - YOU AREN'T HAVING A BABY! STOP PANICKING, BOTH OF YOU!"

"It has to be naked," Arthur said.

"Oh," Ginny said. "Well, we weren't naked last night. Just" --she caught her father's eye, and he shook his head-- "just - er - in the shower. And Harry wasn't there."

"Do you see why we don't want you sleeping in the same bed?" Molly asked.

Harry did, but Ginny was shaking her head. "But we'll just not hug each other naked. We don't want babies yet, Mum. I promise we won't hug each other naked."

Molly pursed her lips. Her cheeks were bright red, and Arthur had his head in his hands again. Harry did not see why this was so. Ginny made a perfectly logical point. If they did not hug each other naked in bed (he had a brief moment of panic when he remembered hugging Ginny in the pond the day before, but he relaxed when he remembered that they had not been in bed), then there should be no problem.

"Sometimes," Molly whispered, "there are... urges. And sometimes, a man and a woman want to give each other naked hugs very, very much."

"But we're just kids," Ginny pointed out.

"Exactly," said Arthur.

Harry was still puzzled. Something about all this didn't make sense. They were, as Ginny had pointed out, just kids. _So why...? _He shook his head. "I don't think I understand it all, but I promise we won't have any naked hugs in bed, okay?"

Arthur's face was blank. "Well... I suppose that's all we can ask right now... Why don't you and Ginny go help your brothers de-gnome the garden. They'll show you how."

Harry nodded. He got up from his chair and took Ginny's hand, but then stopped suddenly. "Mister Weasley, did you just tell me to go help my brothers?"

Arthur gave Harry a sad smile. "I did... if you're my little girl's... husband... then that makes you the brother to my sons. I suppose that makes me a bit like your dad." Molly put a hand to her mouth, hiding her expression. But she was staring at Harry.

Harry seemed to swell in place. "That's great! I think you'll be a great dad." The boy frowned for a moment. "Can I call you dad?"

Arthur just nodded. "Now... off with you."

When they were gone, Arthur turned to his wife. "Well, that was... far more difficult than it was with any of the other boys." He gave his wife a long, hard look; the kind he reserved for when he was about to put his foot down and would brook no argument from anyone. They came very rarely, and because they did so even Molly tended to acquiesce. "Molly... I'm as concerned as you are that they not do anything... untoward... but we need to accept that they are together, as a couple. They're too young to get into trouble now, which is a good thing. We'll just have to... deal... with other issues as they come up. But remember... if we push too hard they might just leave."

"Arthur, they wouldn't..." She stopped when he held up a hand.

"Molly, Dumbledore said that they _could_, and did so in front of them. If we make life too unpleasant for them here, they might just remember he said that. And we don't want that, do we?"

"No, we don't I suppose," she admitted after a long moment.

"So... as long as they aren't exchanging 'special naked hugs in bed'," he couldn't help but chuckle at the euphemism, "or coming close to doing so... I don't see the harm in them sleeping in the same bed."

"Arthur!"

"Now, I'm not saying let them do whatever they want. I'd just... rather be aware of them being together than have them sneak around behind us." Arthur ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Let them stay in Ginny's room together. We'll... I don't know... take her door off of its hinges. They can't act improperly behind closed doors if there's no door to close."

"Can we sew him into a bundle-bag?" Molly asked indignantly.

"Molly! You might as well suggest that I put Alarm Charms on their pajamas!" He rolled his eyes at his wife. "What a silly notion... bundle-bags indeed!"

Molly tried to keep herself from laughing, but it was difficult. "You're right... it's almost as silly as putting alarms on their pajamas." She placed several sausage links on the plate in front of her husband. "I just... I want them to be children... they deserve to be children. Not to get thrust into something so... adult."

"I understand." Arthur stood and watched the children tossing gnomes over the hedge. They looked to be having fun; at the very least Fred, George, Harry, and Ginny were laughing. Ron looked like he was sulking for some reason and Percy... Percy seemed to be holding himself aloof from the others.

"Mail's coming in, I think," Molly said. She pointed at the rapidly approaching black dot in the sky. She brought eggs and more toast to the table for her husband.

"Good... I could use a good sit with the _Prophet_ before I head in to work." Arthur pushed his breakfast around the plate. "I've always imagined that Bill would have made us grand-parents before Ginny even thought about getting married. Strange the way the world works."

"Yes, well... let's not worry ourselves about it. We'll... figure it out, I suppose." Molly sat with her husband and poured some tea. "You know, Arthur... Harry's birthday is only a couple of weeks before Ginny's... maybe we could put together a combined party for them... one big cake and presents for everyone."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Arthur said around his mouthful of egg. "Let's ask them to make sure they're fine with it. I expect they will be what with their... relationship, sharing a birthday might seem natural."

Molly nodded but didn't say anything. "Ah... here's the _Prophet_, then." A tawny owl landed on the kitchen windowsill. It extended a leg once Molly had put a handful of bronze coins into the bag tied to its other leg. She passed the paper to Arthur. "Here you go, dear..." She turned back to the kitchen, beginning her routine cleaning.

Behind her, Arthur unrolled the newspaper. When he saw the large headline at the top of the page, he blanched.

_**POTTER MARRIED!**_

_**BOY WHO LIVES REVIVES ANCIENT PUREBLOOD CUSTOM!**_

_**Are Bride-Purchases The Coming Thing Once More?**_

_**By Rita Skeeter, Special To The Prophet**_

_**Sources inside the Ministry of Magic's Depart of Magical Records have told this reporter that yesterday, Harry Potter, 12, known widely as the Boy-Who-Lived after his spectacular defeat of You-Know-Who eleven years ago, recorded a marriage to one Ginevra Molly Weasley, 10, of Ottery-Saint-Catchpole, East Devon, Devon.**_

_**While arranged marriages are uncommon in the Wizarding world, they aren't unheard of. However, according to Margot Minderbinder, a clerk in the Department of Magical Records, this isn't the standard Betrothal Pledge. "Oh no... it's not one of those at all. Those are recorded in another part of the office. This was an outright marriage. (See "Too Young To Wed?" Page 5)"**_

_**But how is it possible that a twelve-year-old boy could possibly marry a girl of only ten? This reporter spoke to Senior Undersecretary for Legal Affairs, Dolores Umbridge, who had this to say: "There is, in fact, an ancient law allowing children this young to be legally wed; it was written to allow the Ancient Houses to enter into tight family alliances when necessary. Of course, in the last six hundred years, the idea of using one's children in such a blatant political move, when the children are that young, has fallen out of disfavor. However, the law is still on the books (See "What Is the Wizengamot Thinking?" Page 8). It (the law) has never been repealed because no one ever considered that someone would be so ambitious as to sell off their young daughter just to gain a political advantage!"**_

_**When asked to elaborate on the law, Senior Undersecretary Umbridge said, "Basically, when a ranking member of the Twelve Ancient Houses needed to insure an eventual heir, and for whatever reason couldn't find an appropriate potential wife from one of the other Houses, the family in question would look outside the 'acceptable' houses and literally purchase a girl (or boy, as necessary) from one of the lesser houses for the purpose of matrimony. It's quite clear that this is precisely what happened in this case." She went on to say that the nearly-extinct Potter line, currently made up of solely Harry Potter himself (and now his child bride), would almost certainly need to be 'reinvigorated' by the inclusion of outside blood.**_

_**The acquisition of Miss Weasley, then, would be a perfect political move for a boy who wishes to keep his family in the upper tiers of society. But was his choice a wise one? Lucius Malfoy, noted philanthropist, political lobbyist, and head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, had this to say: "I applaud Mister Potter's choice to revive one of the ancient customs. It shows a respect for tradition one rarely finds in children his age, and as well makes a clear statement that he intends to rule his house in the old fashion. His choice of bride could have been better, though; surely there was a potential bride available closer to his own social class." (See "Pureblood Families Getting Smaller Every Year", Page 12.)**_

_**This sentiment was echoed by several members of the Ancient Families I spoke to. "It shows a remarkable amount of ambition on the part of Arthur Weasley. In one swift move, Weasley has boot-strapped his family up the social ladder by attaching it to one of the Twelve. And I'd hazard to say that had Harry's parents or grand-parents been alive, the marriage would never have occurred." This comment, by Hermes Parkinson of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson, caused this reporter to ask if the Boy-Who-Lived had somehow been manipulated into the marriage (See "Just Who Is Caring For Potter's Interests, Anyhow?" Page 7 Editorials).**_

_**"Oh there's no doubt. Why else would the last son of the Fifth House marry someone so lowly?"**_

Arthur had read enough. He dropped the paper as if it burned him. _Of all the ridiculous... _Well... he was used to being treated as a disgrace by the other purebloods. If their bigoted, closed-minded ways were what it meant to be a pureblooded wizard, he'd just as soon be a Muggleborn.

"Dad?" Fred and George ran in from outside. "There's a bunch of people outside. A lot of them have cameras and they've cornered Harry and Ginny in the garden!"

Arthur leapt to his feet. Rushing out of the house, he spotted the small crowd of adults clearly terrifying his youngest children. Harry had Ginny in a tight embrace, trying to shield her from the crowd, while Ron was trying to keep himself between the adults and Harry. Percy was standing in front of the crowd, trying to be reasonable, but it was clear that he was being ignored.

"Hey! You lot! Clear off! You're not welcome here, so go!" Arthur yelled as he ran down the steps. "I'll call the Aurors and have you cleared off! This is private property, and those are only children! Now get!" He began waving his wand around dangerously. Eventually, the gathered reporters retreated to past his front gate. Unfortunately, he couldn't prevent them from accumulating on a public road.

"Mister Weasley! Rita Skeeter with the _Daily Prophet_. Would you care to make a statement regarding your railroading of Harry Potter into a political marriage?" A short, vicious-look blonde woman leaned over his fence. She had a sneer on her face as she spoke quickly to a floating Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Ignore them, kids... get inside." Arthur rushed the children back into the house. He wondered, truly, when this would end.

"What the hell was that all about?" Percy asked. Molly glared at him, but didn't say anything. He had the good grace to look sheepish, however. "Sorry, Mum.

"Your sister's... situation... with Harry is newsworthy, I suppose. I'm surprised they'd invade our private property to get a story, however. Let's just try to avoid them until it all blows over." Arthur patted his son on the back. And it was good to see you and Ron trying to protect Ginny... that was good of you."

Ron shrugged. "She's still our little sister..."

"Exactly," Arthur said. "Exactly right."

He turned to speak to Harry, but stopped when he saw the boy pick up the newspaper he'd left on the table. As Arthur watched, Harry grew redder and redder. Finally, Harry crumpled the paper up and threw it to the floor. "Why can't they just leave us alone?"

Arthur moved to the boy and hugged him. "I don't know son. I just don't know."

XxxxxxX

Life at the Burrow settled into a gentle routine over the next several weeks. Everything about the house was busy and full of excitement, a drastic change from the staid, plastic existence of his Aunt and Uncle's house at Privet Drive. Harry found living there amazingly familiar, as if he had done it all before. The thought bothered him for a while, until one day he decided to simply shrug off the feelings of _déjà vu _and just go with what life was giving him.

The reporters had lingered for several days, until finally Arthur had enough and called the Aurors. Every once in a while a reporter could still be found skulking around, but they never approached the house, and that, at least, was a small blessing the children appreciated. It let them go swimming in the pond or play Quidditch in the paddock without being interfered with.

As promised, Arthur Weasley removed the door from Ginny's room. This bothered both Harry and Ginny, but they accepted it as the price of being able to stay together. Molly continually pointed out that the pair would have to split up once Harry returned to and Ginny started at Hogwarts, but rather than encourage them to sleep separately, such warnings only made them want to spend more time together. Ron also continued to resist the new relationship that had sprung up between his sister and his friend. But both Mrs. Weasley and Ron had come to, if not approval, at least a resigned acceptance of the circumstances.

Arthur Weasley had, of course, taken advantage of Harry's presence to bombard the young man with questions about Muggle life. Of course, Harry had no real idea regarding most of the questions; he had a rough idea of how electrical plugs worked, but couldn't begin to explain to Arthur how it was that airplanes stayed in the air. Still, the few answers Harry could provide simply delighted the man to no end.

The joint birthday party thrown for both Harry and Ginny was a great success, with a single large cake and lots of presents from friends and family. And while each of them received individual presents, they were surprised to receive a joint gift from Professor McGonagall. It was a large crystal goblet carefully etched with their names and the date of their bonding. When they had opened it, Harry had merely looked at it curiously, but Ginny wept. Her reaction puzzled Harry to no end.

Almost a week after the joint party, on the day that otherwise would have been Ginny's eleventh birthday, a large, majestic looking owl had flown in through the window at the start of breakfast and deposited a stack of letters. "Looks like your Hogwarts letters," said Mrs. Weasley. She handed out letters to Harry, Ron, Fred, and George, but stopped at the next to the last one. That one she merely stared at. Her mouth thinned to a line; it was obvious she was trying hard to keep her temper in check.

The children were busily reading their new school lists. Fred peered over at Harry's letter and said, "You've been told to get all of Lockhart's books too? The new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."

"This lot won't come cheap..." said George. "Lockhart's books are... Mum? Are you all right?" You're all red in the face..."

Harry and Fred both turned toward Molly, who was, in fact, turning slowly pinker and pinker. "I'm fine," she said at last. "Harry, would you be so kind... could you tell Ginny to come down here? Right now, please? And call Percy down as well, please?" Mrs. Weasley found a seat at the table, placing the letters in front of her. Harry nodded and ran up the stairs.

Ginny came down almost immediately. She was still in her dressing gown and her hair was wet. "Sorry, Mum... I just got out of the shower. Harry... um... he said it was urgent." She'd just finished speaking when Percy arrived.

"Yes, mother? Oh, our Hogwarts letters!" Percy took a seat at the table and waited.

Molly handed Ginny her letter, then Percy his. "Congratulations, Ginny, on officially making it to Hogwarts," she said in an odd, brittle voice.

"Thanks Mum! I know it's foolish, but I've really been longing to get one of these." Ginny blushed. "I mean, I've always known that I was going... but this sort of makes it real."

"I understand perfectly, dear," Molly said. Her voice still held that slightly brittle quality.

Ginny read the letter's envelope then tore into it with gusto. She was still reading her school list when Molly asked, "Did you notice anything strange about your letter, Ginny?"

"Hmm? What, Mum?" Ginny looked confused. She reread the letter, then the envelope. "No, not really... what's the matter?"

Molly sighed and picked up the envelope. She reread the address.

_Mrs. Ginevra M. Potter_

_Number 1 Old Stone Row_

_Ottery St. Catchpole, East Devon_

_Devon_

"I suppose it's nothing," Molly said.

"Fred's right..." George began, still staring at the letter. "Whoever the new Defense teacher is, they're barmy for Lockhart... I think they included his entire bibliography here. We need seven of his books, just for that one class." He whistled at the thought of how much this was going to cost. "Five sets of his books are going to be expensive all right."

"What else do you expect from a con man?" Harry muttered. "That's probably why he assigned them; this book list is just a quick and easy way to boost his sales and line his pockets."

"What was that, Harry?" Percy wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

Surprised, Harry jerked his attention away from the letter. He glanced sheepishly at Percy. "N-nothing... I was just thinking... I didn't mean to say that aloud."

"Well, I suppose we'll manage." Molly looked wistful. "We always do, after all. I suppose we can get most of what Ginny needs secondhand..."

"Why?" Harry asked, more forcefully than he meant. He immediately backed down. "I mean... she has... _**we**_ have enough money... to pay for everything. In fact, we'd be happy to help out. It's the least we could do. Right, Gin?" Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"No, I don't think that's necessary, Harry. We'll take care of Ginny... we're her parents, it's our responsibility, after all, and we don't want to trouble you about this." Molly patted Harry's arm. "But thank you for offering."

Harry was dumbfounded for a moment. "Um... Mum... it's not that I'm arguing, but Ginny isn't your responsibility anymore. It's my job to take care of her now... at least when it comes to money... And please, trust me in knowing that this won't trouble us at all... we'd be happy to help, and we've got money coming out our... our... um... our ears."

"Really, Mum... would you object to it if it were just me? What if I won a lot of money in a contest and used it to help pay for school books? This is the same thing." Ginny gave Molly a pleading look.

Molly wasn't happy, but she finally nodded. "Fine. You can help with the books. But everything else you..." Molly stopped for a moment. She sighed and shook her head. "Everything else the boys need, your father and I will pay for."

The family ate their breakfast, occasionally disrupting the meal with talk of Quidditch, or speculations of who the new Defense teacher would be. The Weasley boys were a bit skeptical of Harry's guess that it would be Lockhart himself, despite Ginny instantly agreeing with him. His reasoning (_Who else would want every Hogwarts student to buy seven of his books?) _was funny to everyone, save Percy, but wasn't seen as convincing.

As they were eating, an old, graying owl flew into the room from outside, skidded across the tabletop, and flopped unceremoniously to the floor on the far side.

"Errol!" Ron called. "I hope he has Hermione's answer! I wrote her back when you moved in. I told her about you and Ginny and asked her what she thought about it all," He carried the old owl to the perch just inside the kitchen door, but it was no use. The bird flopped to the floor again. Ron picked Errol up and left him on the draining board instead. "Pathetic..." he muttered.

He tore open Hermione's letter and sighed. "Well, looks like she's as shocked by what happened as we were, though she says congratulations. Wants to know how it's possible for two children your age to be married, Harry." He paused, rereading one passage of the letter. "Typical... she says she wants to look up Wizarding marriage laws as soon as she's back at Hogwarts." Ron kept reading. "What does she mean schoolwork? We're on Summer Holiday!" He was silent for a long while before turning to his mother. "Mum? Can we go to Diagon Alley next Wednesday? Hermione says that's when her parents are taking her to get her things. We could all meet there and hang around for a while."

Molly nodded. "That would be perfect dear. We can get everyone's things when we go." She got up and began to clear away the table. "So, what do you children have planned for this morning?"

"Quidditch!" Fred chimed in with a smile.

XxxxxxX

Everyone got up early on Wednesday and after filling up with bacon sandwiches for breakfast, the entire Weasley family, including Harry, pulled on their cloaks. Mrs. Weasley took the flower pot containing the Floo powder down from the mantle. "Arthur, were running a little short on Floo Powder," she said. "Remind me to get some more while we're at Diagon Alley. All right, Percy... you first!"

One by one, the children entered the Floo, each calling out "Diagon Alley" before stepping into the green flames and vanishing. They popped out of the Floo into the Leaky Cauldron, and were soon heading toward Gringotts. When they entered the bank, the first thing they saw was Hermione Granger and her parents, who were exchanging Muggle money for Galleons. Mr. Weasley immediately became distracted from the purpose of their visit.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione called when she saw them. She hugged both boys quickly. "So what exactly happened? Ginny!" she cried, hugging the other girl. "How did you two end up married? Oh, my! Is that..." Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and held it up, studying the ring. "Oh, Ginny... it's so beautiful! So... tell me! How did this happen?"

Ginny disentangled herself from Hermione's grasp before speaking. The older girl's presumptive familiarity bothered her somewhat. Hermione Granger might be a friend to both Ron and Harry, but Ginny had never really met the girl. They "knew" each other only through letters that were addressed to Ron and Harry. Despite the irritation, Ginny felt as if Hermione was _meant _to be her friend, and _would be _one of her closest friends... but the assumption of close friendship this early on still grated. "Harry gave me the ring before he left," Ginny said irritably.

"Right before he left? But...?" Hermione asked.

"Don't bother, Hermione," Ron said with a smirk. "That's all these two say when you ask them about the ring." Ron smirked.

"So... this is legal? You're actually married to Ginny now?" Hermione asked. "I mean, despite the fact that you're only..."

"Yes, Hermione," Ginny said. "Professor Dumbledore said that the transfer of a Soul Stone from one person to the other is a form of magical marriage. It just normally doesn't happen between people our age. So yes, it's official."

Hermione looked puzzled. "Soul Stone? What's a --"

Mrs. Weasley's arrival interrupted the discussion. "Well, your father is otherwise occupied. Perhaps we should just carry on without him." She collected the children, minus Hermione, and headed for the Vaults while Arthur tried to brace Mr. Granger with questions regarding the Muggle world. Once they were back outside, the family separated. "We can meet at Flourish and Blotts for your schoolbooks," Molly said to the retreating backs of her children.

"So, Ginny..." Harry asked. "We need to get your shopping done. What first?"

"Oh, definitely we need to get my wand first. I'm not a proper witch without one, am I?" Ginny leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. "Then can we get some new robes? Everything I've got now comes from a second-hand shop."

They collected Ron and Hermione and wandered off toward Ollivander's wand shop.

XxxxxxX

An hour later, the four of them were sitting outside of Fortescue's, slurping down strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice cream. "Let's go over to Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry! They've got the Nimbus 2001s in the window!"

"Nimbus 2001?" Harry asked. His eyes lost their focused look for a moment. When they came back into focus, he smiled. "I think I'd love to, Ron! How about you, Ginny?"

Ginny watched Harry carefully for a moment. "Er... all right..." She looked slightly puzzled, as if something was tugging on her memory but she couldn't quite see it.

"Must we, really? We need to be getting to Flourish and Blotts, soon!" Hermione said, but it was a lost cause.

"Yes, Hermione... this really needs to be done." Harry was still smiling, but it wasn't the jolly smile he was wearing a moment ago. It was harder, somehow. "It really, really needs to be done." Harry stood and held his hand out to Ginny.

"What needs to be done, Harry?" Ron mimicked Harry's actions, holding his hand out for Hermione. She looked at it for a moment before taking it. "Are you planning a prank or something?"

"Yeah, Ron... a prank on Lucius Malfoy." Harry led them towards the Quidditch shop.

"Lucius... you mean Draco Malfoy's father? Why on Earth would you prank _him?_" Hermione asked. Unconsciously, she and Ron continued to hold each other's hands.

The man behind the counter smiled as they approached. "So, young sirs and misses... how can I help you today? Broom servicing kit, perhaps? Need a spare Quaffle?"

"No sir." Harry began. "I was wondering how many of the Nimbus 2001 you currently have in stock."

"The new Nimbus? That's quite an expensive item for a boy your age. Why are you asking?" The salesman glared at Harry, expecting some prank.

"I need twenty one of them."

"Twenty... Look, you... I don't need this sort of ridiculous claptrap in my shop. Now, away with you..." The man was livid.

"Sir, my name is Harry Potter." Harry watched as the salesman's eyes flicked upward toward his forehead, then back down to his eyes. "And I assure you I can afford to buy everything in this building, if I so chose. Including the building. Now... do you want to sell me the twenty one brooms or not?"

The man considered. "What do you need twenty-one Nimbus 2001's for?"

"I wish to donate them to the Hogwarts House teams, anonymously. Specifically, to the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor teams. And I mean it when I say I want the donation made anonymously," Harry said. "If you can have them delivered to Professors Sprout, McGonagall, and Flitwick at Hogwarts, with a quick note explaining that they come from an alumnus who wishes to have his gift be a private one, with no one finding out, I'll give you a thirty percent commission on the sale."

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Leveling the playing field." Harry's smile had turned a bit predatory.

XxxxxxX

They left the Quidditch shop and headed for Flourish and Blotts. As they approached the shop, the first thing they noticed was the crowd rapidly gathering outside, trying to get in. A huge banner stretched across the front of the shop, proclaiming a special appearance by Gilderoy Lockhart, the famous wizard monster-hunter.

"Oh, no... I'd forgotten..." Ginny's face fell. She spotted the expression Harry's face and her mouth fell open. "You knew he was going to be here, too?"

"Yeah," he grimaced. "I'm trying to come up with some clever way of escaping the photo-opportunity, but I'm failing, miserably."

"Harry, how did we both know about Lockhart being here? Or that he's going to try and get a..." Her face darkened. "Malfoy!"

Harry looked at her in confusion. "Malfoy? What about... oh... Malfoy..."

They made their way through the crowd, looking for Mrs. Weasley and occasionally pulling a book they needed from the shelves. "There's Mum," Ron said. They stepped past the line to where Mrs. Weasley was waiting with the Grangers.

"Oh good, you're here! He's about to arrive." For some reason, Molly kept fidgeting with her hair. "We can get your books signed."

When Lockhart finally appeared, Harry saw the man was the spitting image of the unpleasant memory that had floated up from the depths of nowhere. A short, pushy man with a camera rudely pressed people out of his way and began snapping pictures of Lockhart. "Out of the way, boy!" the man snapped at Ron. "This is for the _Daily Prophet_."

"Big deal," said Ron. He turned away from the photographer and bumped the man as hard as he could with his shoulder. It was a petty action, but it served to utterly ruin the man's shot.

"Now see here!" the man objected.

Lockhart heard the disturbance and looked up. His eyes traveled over Ron and then locked onto Harry Potter. He stared for a moment. "Is that... it can't be... Harry Potter?" He leapt to his feet and rushed forward. The people in line for autographs moved out of the way, all the while whispering about this one-in-a-lifetime meeting between two legendary celebrities. Lockhart dove forward and locked his hands on Harry's arm...

"Hey!" Harry lunged backward. Lockhart, already off-balance, was pulled over on top of the boy. Harry yelled, "Somebody help! He's attacked me!"

Gilderoy Lockhart was unceremoniously dragged off of Harry and away while Ron helped his friend back to his feet. "I wonder what that was all about," Ron asked. "Why would he attack you like that?"

"No idea... maybe he's a follower of You-Know-Who and wants revenge on me for defeating his former master," Harry replied. Within moments, everyone in the rapidly emptying bookshop was talking about Lockhart the Death Eater trying to kill Harry Potter.

"That was brilliant, Harry. Do you think it's enough to get him booted from Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, _sotto voce._

Harry shook his head. "No... he'll explain it away as a misunderstanding, which it was, really. But it got me out of that picture, didn't it?"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you? All the attention... everyone's eyes on you, the _famous _Harry Potter..." Harry turned and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin boy sneered in Harry's face. "Oh, and look... it's your whore. What's the matter, Potter, couldn't afford a better-looking girl?" Draco turned his smug gaze onto Ginny.

Before Draco could open his mouth again, he found himself pressed against a bookshelf, Harry's wand jabbing painfully into his neck. "Draco Malfoy, you are warned to consider your next words very, very carefully. You've directly and intentionally insulted my wife, and by extension not only my family but hers, and I will not abide it. You owe me an Honor Debt, and until satisfied a state of vendetta exists between our lines."

"Well, well, Potter..." It was Lucius Malfoy. The man stepped between Harry and Draco, forcing Harry to step back. "A vendetta... how shocking. I once again commend you on your study of the ancient customs, but as there is no third party present to witness your claim of an Honor Debt, I'm afraid that it just..."

"Harry! Don't get yourself into trouble!" Molly Weasley said. She held a hand to her mouth as she scanned the crowd for her husband. "Please don't start a..."

"Witnessed. Witnessed and sealed." An older man stepped from the crowd. "The Line of MacMillan witnesses the Line of Potter claiming an Honor Debt against the Line of Malfoy." Harry recognized the boy with the man who had stepped forward: Ernie MacMillan, from Hufflepuff House.

Harry smiled and turned back to the Malfoys. "This matter is between me and your son, Mister Malfoy. Step aside, as your honor requires, or else apologize on his behalf." His stare cut into Lucius Malfoy like a knife.

It seemed for a moment that Lucius would accept the challenge, but then his face softened. Looking for all the world as if something unpleasant-smelling was stuck under his nose, Lucius Malfoy said, "The Malfoys apologize to the Potters for the errant words of its heir. He will be... instructed... not to be so free with his tongue in the future."

"But father...!" Draco interjected. "You can't..."

"Shut up, Draco!" Malfoy hissed. "Before you dig yourself into an even deeper hole. This is not the time nor is it the place..."

Harry watched all of this unfold and smiled.

"Your apology is accepted, Mister Malfoy. Draco... remember my warning."

Harry lowered his wand and turned to Ginny, who smiled at him. "My hero..."


	6. The Journey from Platform 9 34…

**Chapter Six: **_** The Journey from Platform 9¾… **_

Even though both Harry and Ginny had been looking forward to returning to Hogwarts, the end of their summer holiday came far too quickly for both. Even with the stresses and troubles caused by his bond with Ginny, Harry had experienced the best summer of his life. Compared to the Dursleys, the Weasleys were the perfect family, and their home was far preferable to the house on Privet Drive. For Ginny, on the other hand, her enthusiasm for finally getting to attend Hogwarts with her brothers had transformed into a nervous dread about leaving the safety of home. The only thing keeping her marginally balanced was Harry.

When the day finally arrived, the collected Weasleys and Harry seemed to encounter every possible delay in actually _leaving._ Packing took everyone too long, and endless rounds of "I forgot…" caused the family to turn around at least three times. In the end, Molly announced that they were going, and anything left behind would be owled. They finally reached King's Cross Station with only twenty minutes to spare.

With their luggage, the family rushed toward the barrier separating Platforms nine and ten. As Arthur watched the clock, first Percy, then the twins and Ron all hurried through the portal to Platform 9¾. "You two go ahead, we'll be right behind you," Mrs. Weasley told Ginny and Harry. Side-by-side, the children started toward the portal. They sped up to a light run, as Molly had long-advised her children to do.

With a loud _**CRASH **_both of their carts slammed into the barrier and rebounded. Their luggage spilled this way and that; Hedwig's cage fell over and rolled off toward Platform 10; the poor owl inside shrieked indignantly at the mistreatment. Harry was knocked off his feet by the impact, while Ginny involuntarily performed what otherwise would have been a perfect front flip over the handles of her cart. She landed on her back on top of her trunk.

The Muggles around them stared, and a guard asked angrily, "What in bloody hell do you kids think you're playing at?"

"Sorry… sorry… they lost control of their carts. Won't happen again." Arthur said hurriedly. He and Molly rushed forward. They helped the children to their feet. "Are you two all right? Are you hurt?"

"Fine… fine, mum." Ginny gasped. Her wind had been knocked out of her, and it took a moment for her to stand up straight. She looked to Harry and saw he was having as much trouble.

Arthur was slapping the barrier with one of his hands. "We do not have time for this silly thing to malfunction." He looked at his watch. "Five minutes to go. Molly, stay here and watch their things. Kids, grab hold of my arm." Harry and Ginny both did as they were told. A moment later, they both experienced the exquisite unpleasantness that comes from being squeezed through a tube. In an eye-blink, they found themselves on Platform 9¾ facing the Hogwarts Express.

"Okay, kids… on you go!" Arthur handed Harry up onto the train, then boosted Ginny on.

Ginny was confused. "Daddy, what about our things?"

"It's okay, pumpkin… your mother and I will send them along as quickly as possible. It's more important that you aren't late for your first day of school." The train lurched into motion. Arthur followed as best he could, calling out "I'm proud of you, Ginny! You'll do fine! Harry, take care of her!" Within seconds, they had left the station and were on their way.

It took Harry and Ginny several minutes to locate Hermione Granger, who had managed to grab a compartment midway down the train. Ron sat on the bench opposite her, looking for all the world like he's swallowed an unpeeled lemon.

"Harry! Ginny! Where were you? Where is all your stuff?"

"The portal sealed for some reason! We couldn't get through! Dad had to Apparate us onto the platform, and we got on the train just in time. He said that our stuff would be sent up to the school… I hope it gets there before too long… it would stink, only having one set of clothes for days." Ginny said, all in one breath.

"Stinks in here already." Ron muttered, turning to stare out of the window. "Stinks of mud in here…"

"Sorry, Ron… what was that?" Hermione asked, grinning. "I was listening to Ginny, sorry." He rolled his eyes at her and turned back to the window. No one else in the compartment had even heard him speak.

"What's wrong with Ron?" Harry asked.

Hermione just shook her head. She leaned in close, so Ron couldn't hear. "I don't know… he's been quiet and angry since I got here. Honestly, when I opened the compartment door he seemed about to tell me off for bothering him!"

"Is something wrong?" Harry eyed Ron speculatively. His friend was still staring out the window at the passing countryside.

"You'd know better than I would, I'm afraid." With that, Hermione sat back on the padded bench and sighed. She glanced at Ron, then turned back to Harry and shrugged.

Harry could only shrug back. He opened his mouth to say something, but his attention was caught by movement he saw only out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward the train's corridor and watched a dejected looking boy trundle by, pulling his trunk.

Harry stood and opened the compartment door. "Neville!" he called. "Come on in and sit down! Plenty of room in here." He held the door open and smiled.

Neville Longbottom stopped and turned back; he seemed to consider the offer for a moment before turning back toward Harry. "Thanks, Harry… I was wondering if I'd find somewhere to sit at all. A bunch of Ravenclaws sort of drove me out of the compartment I was in, and the rest were filled with people who didn't seem to want me around. Malfoy actually laughed at me…"

Longbottom stopped when he saw Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. He looked back to Harry, a question in his eyes, but Harry just nodded. "Go on, Neville… we've got plenty of room. Besides, you know we couldn't let a good friend wander around the train, could we?" At the phrase 'good friend', Neville looked confused, but only for a moment.

Ron turned to Hermione. "Budge up, there, Hermione. Come on in and sit down, Neville…" he said, indicating a place next to him. Hermione looked vaguely hurt… for Neville to sit down there, she'd have to move over, away from Ron. She looked at Ron for a moment, then shook her head and scooted toward the compartment door.

"Thanks! I really appreciate it." Neville stowed his trunk on the luggage rack with the others, then sat heavily between Ron and Hermione. "So how was everyone's summer?"

"Don't ask…" Ron said. "You wouldn't believe what my family's been put through this summer." As he eyed Harry and Ginny, his face assumed a look one normally would associate with encountering a bad smell. "We've had reporters camped just outside our gate for close to a month. Ever since those two…" He tipped his head to Harry and Ginny.

"Ron, stop it," Harry said. "You know that we don't want reporters hounding us all the time any more than you do."

Ron snorted. "Whatever." He turned back to the window.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry… I'm just tired. I haven't been feeling well the last couple of days and it's making me cranky, all right? Let's just… drop it. I don't mean anything by it, promise…"

Harry was quiet for a moment, but then smiled. "Sure, Ron… we all have bad days. It's not like I can't say I haven't ever snapped at you and Hermione, right?"

"Yeah, true… Sorry everybody. I didn't mean to…" Ron shrugged and stared at the floor.

"It's all right, Ron. Harry's right. People have their bad days." Hermione smiled at him, and Ron managed to return it.

"So… er… Harry… I saw in the _Daily Prophet _something about… er… you two are married or something? For real married, I mean… not just pretend or something?" Neville asked, blushing. "You're Ron's baby sister, right?"

"Oh, sorry about that. Neville Longbottom, this is my Ginny. Ginny, this is my good friend Neville." Harry said. "And yeah, it's for real." Harry grinned a bit shyly. He looked at Ginny, and she looked back at him, smiling.

"Oh you don't have to introduce us, Harry… I know who Neville is. He's one of my…" Ginny trailed off, looking utterly confused. "We've met, right? I mean… I know you… you seem… familiar…"

"Er… I don't think so…" Neville said.

Harry just stared at her. "Did you meet him last year on the platform? Before the train left?"

"I… maybe… I just…" Ginny scratched her head. "Oh well… it will come to me." She leaned in and hugged Harry, beaming. "It's not important, anyway. I'm glad Neville's here. I'm sure I'll like him, since he's your friend.

Neville smiled, amazed at how happy Harry and Ginny seemed together. "Well… that's good then." Neville smiled back. He sighed, deeply, thinking about his life in general. "I should have thought of doing that… find a nice girl and pay her family a bride-price…" he muttered. "Don't think my Gran would like it if I did it without her say so, though." Harry and Ginny both chuckled at the thought. Ron merely scowled.

"Oh, I didn't pay a bride-price." At Neville's confused look, Harry continued. "I know that's what the _Prophet _said, but I didn't pay a bride price. I gave Ginny my mother's engagement ring." Harry said with a smile.

"You gave her an engagement ring, and that's all it took to get married? That must be some engagement ring…" Neville laughed.

"Professor Dumbledore told my Mum and Dad that the diamond in the ring isn't really a diamond. He says it's a Soul Stone… some kind of love-stone," Ginny said. "From what Dad told us after, you can only give a Soul Stone to someone who is your one true love, and you can only take a Soul Stone from someone who is your one true love."

Neville's eyes widened. "So how did you find out Ron's little sister was your one true love? I don't know if I even know a girl well enough to say I like her, much less love her…"

"Well, before I left the Burrow, I gave her the ring." Harry grinned.

"What, you mean right before you left for school? But the story was in the paper weeks ago. How…?" Neville asked, confused.

"Oh, no… it wasn't then… it was before I left!" Harry said. He looked at Ginny and smiled.

Neville shook his head, utterly mystified. "Well, if it works for you."

Ginny was looking around the compartment with a thoughtful look on her face. "Harry… I'll be right back… there are only five of us here and there should be six. There should be six of us here." She squeezed his hand and exited the compartment.

"What's she on about?" Ron asked. "Where's she going?"

"No clue, mate…" Harry shrugged.

"From what she said, I suppose she's gone to look for someone," Hermione said. She was quiet for a moment. "You know, Harry… ever since this thing between the two of you happened, she's been acting very strangely. You both have. You say things that make no sense sometimes."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Hermione," Harry said seriously.

"Well… next time you say something odd, I'll point it out. That way, you'll know."

Ginny returned several minutes later, pulling a school trunk. Behind her trailed a girl with large, pale eyes and stringy blonde hair. She was wearing a slightly puzzled smile, and had her wand tucked behind her ear. "This is Luna Lovegood, everyone," Ginny said. "This is Luna Lovegood. She's just starting Hogwarts, like me. She wasn't having any fun in her compartment so I invited her to join us."

"Nice to meet you, Luna, I'm Hermione Granger," she said. She pointed to the others in the compartment. "This is Neville Longbottom, that's Ron Weasley; he's Ginny's brother. And this is Harry Potter."

Neville and Harry nodded to her, but Ron stared for a moment. "I've seen you around Ottery-Saint-Catchpole, haven't I? You live there too, don't you? We're in the Burrow, out past the sheep pens." he asked.

"Oh, yes. My father and I live right on the Otter River, a bit northward of the village proper." Luna entered the compartment and helped Ginny manhandle her trunk up onto the rack. Ginny sat beside Harry and patted the seat next to her, indicating that Luna should sit down.

Luna smiled at everyone in the compartment in their turn, but soon turned to Harry and stared at him for a moment. She didn't seem to blink as often as she should. "Are you really Harry Potter? How interesting… you seem much shorter than you look in the newspapers. Congratulations on your recent nuptials. I recognized Ginny's name from the _Daily Prophet _when she introduced herself to me back in my original compartment." Luna pointed to Ginny.

"Er… yes." Harry responded. "So, how do you know Ginny?"

"I don't actually think I do, really." Luna said vaguely. "But she was friendly to me, and friendly is always better than not friendly. Don't you think? So I followed her when she invited me to this compartment. It's nice to meet you all, of course. Even though you seem to be sulking," Luna nodded toward Ron, "it is nice to meet you all the same. Thank you for inviting me to your compartment. My last one was no fun at all."

"Why? What was happening?" Neville asked a bit shyly.

"The people in the compartment weren't very nice," Luna said. They took the magazine I was reading and made fun of me for reading it. They also said I was odd-looking, which is strange because I would think that 'odd-looking' is a purely subjective concept, don't you agree? And then that fellow Malfoy arrived and it all turned sort of pear-shaped." She blinked, slowly. "He was obviously a bully, and thus not really worth wasting time on, but one of the girls actually tried to ingratiate herself with him. I don't think she was too successful."

Hermione chuckled. "That's a surprise. He usually laps up flattery like a cat laps cream." That caused everyone in the compartment to laugh, except Luna, who just looked vaguely pleased.

"So... er… um… Luna?" At the girl's nod, Neville continued. "So… which House do you think you'd like to be sorted into?

Luna was silent for a long time. The only thing moving were her feet, which swung back and forth in front of her. Finally, just when everyone had gained the impression she was purposefully ignoring Neville, she spoke. "I hadn't actually thought about it, really. I'm not sure I'm truly in support of the idea of labeling an eleven year old child and putting them into a category for life. I mean… what if I am sorted into Ravenclaw for my intelligence and love of knowledge, like my parents were. Does that mean I'm incapable of being brave? Or loyal? Or clever? I just don't know, really." Hermione was nodding, but everyone else just stared at her.

"So… um… Ravenclaw then?" Neville asked. "Like your parents?"

Luna stared at him, the vaguely pleased look still on her face. "Not necessarily. I think I'd prefer to be in a House where I was liked, and where I would have a pleasant and supportive learning environment, more than simply one that was arbitrarily selected because my psychological profile indicated a preponderance of a certain trait." She looked at Ginny. "Do you have any idea which House you want to be sorted into?"

Ginny nodded. "Of course I do. Gryffindor."

"Why?" Luna's question was asked quietly, but it had the effect of an explosion. Everyone in the compartment stopped moving and simply stared.

"Er… because… um… well… everyone in my family has been in Gryffindor, or close enough to everyone." Ginny turned to Harry and blushed. "And because he's there... Mostly because he's there."

"All right… but think about this for a moment. What if it is determined that your most prominent psychological traits are your cleverness and your willingness to ruthlessly wield power? You'd be placed in Slytherin House regardless of the fact that you actively desire to follow your husband into Gryffindor. Is that fair? Hardly." Luna pulled one of her legs up onto the bench and rested her chin on her knee.

Hermione smiled at the other girl. "Luna, that's really well-thought-out. So I suppose the answer to Neville's question is that you really have no preference?"

"Oh, no… I have a preference. It's just that my preference falls outside the scope of the four answers you're expecting." Luna looked to Neville. "I thought I answered your question. I want to go into whichever House provides the best environment in which to spend the next seven years. One where I can feel safe and supported. I haven't felt safe and supported much. Not since my mother died, at any rate."

Harry swallowed. "How long ago did she…?"

"She died a year and a half ago. She was a brilliant witch, but she liked to try new things. One of her experiments went horribly wrong." For the first time, the dreamy expression left Luna's face. "I was there for all of it. I was all alone with her until Daddy came home."

Everyone was quiet for a long time, not really sure how to respond. Finally, and somewhat unexpectedly, Ginny pulled Luna into a tight hug. "It's going to be okay, Luna."

"Are you sure, Ginny?" Luna asked, returning the hug.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm one of your best friends, and I'd never lie to you. Everything that's happened is so it will be better this time. It's going to be better than it was last time. Trust me." Ginny smiled. Luna hugged Ginny again without saying anything. Hermione, on the other hand, turned to Harry.

"There. That was one of those times when something is said that doesn't make any sense. How could she be one of Luna's best friends when they only just met? And just what does she mean, 'better than it was the last time'?"

Harry just shook his head. "I told you, Hermione, I still don't know what you're talking about."

They all looked up suddenly as their compartment door was slammed open. Standing in the opening was Draco Malfoy, with his cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle standing behind him. "Well, Potter…" Malfoy sneered "… it seems you've lost your wife, already… and to a girl, no less. I guess you just can't give her what she needs."

Harry stared at Malfoy for a moment. He shook his head as he stood up. "Malfoy, are you really this thick? By just being here you're ignoring everything I said to you in the book shop." Harry crossed his arms, almost daring the other boy to act. "Too stupid to know when to shut up, that's your problem." Malfoy growled and went for his wand. Harry responded by kicking the other boy as hard as he could, right in the crotch. Crabbe and Goyle stepped back, their surprise apparent on their faces as they watched their leader collapse, whimpering.

Harry looked first to one, then the other of Malfoy's henchmen. "Pick up this trash and go, or I swear you're going to get hurt." The larger boys looked at each other and nodded. They reached down to lift Malfoy from the floor, but when Crabbe reached for Malfoy's wand, Harry stepped forward. He put his full weight on the wand. "No… he's forfeited that. Now get!" Crabbe and Goyle stared at Harry for a moment. They took off down the corridor as quickly as they could while carrying Malfoy's weight.

When they were gone, Harry stooped and picked up Malfoy's wand. "So… now that I have Malfoy's wand… what do I do with it? I'm not really sure why I took it…" He looked at the other five in the compartment. Expressions ranged from disinterested attention from Luna to utter shock from Hermione.

Surprisingly, it was Neville who spoke up. "Er… Harry… I… er… did you really claim an honor debt from the Malfoys? I read about it in the _Prophet…_ they said it was a sealed and witnessed claim…"

"Yeah, I did," Harry responded. "Draco Malfoy called my wife a whore."

At that Neville nodded. "Well then… go ahead and snap that. If he still insulted you after you warned him… well… it's his own fault. Now that you've beaten him in a fair fight, you've got the right to claim his wand."

"Harry, no… don't… you'll get in so much trouble," Hermione interjected. "Think of what Snape will do to you…"

"Snape can't do a thing… this was a legal challenge and Malfoy has to accept the consequences. Personally, I think it was rather stupid of him to even attempt anything, what with the fact that they were outnumbered two to one. But then, I did say he was a bully earlier. Most bullies aren't that bright. In fact, it's really the smart bullies you have to watch out for." All eyes turned to Luna, who ignored the attention.

"Ron?" Harry asked.

"Snap it. Bloody pillock deserves it."

"Language, Ron…" Ginny said. "But I agree, Harry. He deserves it."

Harry thought about it for a moment, and then turned to open the compartment's window. Almost casually, he snapped Malfoy's wand in two and tossed the pieces out of the train. "Well… at least we won't have to worry about that plonker trying to hex us in the back." He turned back to his friends. "So, anyone interested in a game of Exploding Snap?"

XxxxxxX

When the conductor's voice sounded through the train, announcing that they were swiftly approaching Hogsmeade Station, the three boys left the compartment to the girls, who drew the curtains closed and changed into their school uniforms. When the girls were finished, it was the boys' turn.

When they were finished dressing, the six children grabbed whatever sweets, books, and cards that were still out and quickly stuffed them into pockets, bags, and trunks. Leaving their luggage on the train, for they knew that it would be brought up later by the Castle's house-elves, they stepped out onto the crowded, dimly lit train platform.

Harry pulled Ginny into a hug. "This is where we split up. You go with Hagrid and I'll see you in the Great Hall. Good luck with your sorting." He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Oh, please, Harry…" she said in response. "Really… you sound like I'm going off to war and am not expected back. You've told me all about it. Hagrid, boat ride, some stairs, and then the Sorting Hat. No worries at all, there."

He smiled at her. "Go on then. See you in a bit." Harry caught up with Ron and Hermione. Giving her one last smile over his shoulder, he disappeared down a side path that seemed to lead to a cart-filled dirt road.

Ginny turned and took Luna by the hand. "This is going to be such fun!" Luna nodded and started to say something, but was interrupted by a new voice coming out of the shadow.

"Was that really Harry Potter, there? The one who gave you the smooch?" A blonde-haired boy with a bright, open face stepped toward the two girls. "Is he your boyfriend, then?"

Ginny was taken aback. "Er… no… he was my husband." The boy's mouth fell open in shock. It seemed as if he was going to ask another question, but Ginny stopped him. "Sorry, but do I know you?"

"Oh, I'm Colin… Colin Creevey. Nice to meet you." Colin smiled at Ginny, and it occurred to her that she hadn't yet given the boy her own name.

"Nice to meet you too," she said unenthusiastically. "This is Luna Lovegood. I'm Ginny Potter."

"_You're married! To the Boy-Who Lived! That's wicked!"_ The boy seemed to collect himself for a moment. "Wait… you're my age, aren't you? How could you be eleven and married?"

"That really isn't any of your business, now is it?" Luna fixed the boy with her eyes and seemed to hold him. "Now, I do believe that large, hairy person over there is trying to get our attention," she continued. The three of them turned to see a gigantic, heavily bearded man step onto the platform bearing a lantern.

"Oh! It's Hagrid! He's very nice… not as scary as he seems, believe me." Ginny grinned. "Come on… let's go!"

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, follow me… any more of yeh? Firs' years! Mind yer step, there! Firs' years… follow me." Hagrid lead the new students down a steeply sloping path that lead, between a copse of tall trees, to the shore of a lake. As they rounded the turn that lead to the water's edge, the assembled students got their first real look at Hogwarts Castle.

Everyone stopped in awe of the view. The castle itself seemed covered in a thousand glittering jewels, each gem a window lit from the inside. It sat on a high plateau, and overlooked the lake at the top of a rather precipitous drop.

"All right… no more'n four to a boat, now." Hagrid called. The students' attention was called back to the shore, where a fleet of white rowboats sat. Ginny scrambled into a boat and helped Luna in after her. They were joined by Colin Creevey and a blonde girl who identified herself as Ella Wilbanks. "Everyone in a boat? Everyone in?" Hagrid had a boat to himself. Many of the children, Ginny included, were sure that the huge man would swamp the thing, but it seemed to take his weight with ease. "Right then… FORWARD!"

At Hagrid's command, the fleet of boats left the shore all at once, moving across the black water of the lake. The waves on the lake were relatively gentle, but they were still there. As a result, unfortunately, by the time the boats approached a sheer rock face not a few of the First Year students were looking decidedly green around the edges.

"What you need to do, Ginny," Luna said, rubbing her friend gently on the back to help ease the nausea, "is find a solid point on land that's not moving and concentrate on that. Just stare at that point. Trust me it helps." Next to her, Colin Creevey abruptly leaned over the side of the boat and vomited loudly. He tipped the boat so far that they actually took on a bit of water.

They came closer and closer to the cliff face, and just as it looked like they were going to ram a particularly ivy-covered section of rock wall, Hagrid called out, "HEADS DOWN!" All the students bent down low as the boats entered an underground harbor. When the boats stopped, the children scrambled out onto a small, rocky, pebble-strewn beach.

Hagrid did a quick head-count, and then waved the student's forward. "This way, now… follow me." He led his charges up a narrow passageway in the rock. Soon enough, the new students were walking across the damp grass of the castle's front lawn. They climbed a flight of stone steps to the huge oaken door. Hagrid raised his fist and knocked on the caste's main door three times.

In response, the door swung wide, revealing a tall, black-haired witch wearing bottle-blue robes. Ginny recognized her from Harry's description. This was Professor McGonagall. The professor wore a stern expression that immediately conveyed the message this was not a person who put up with a lot of silliness from her students.

Hagrid seemed to stand slightly straighter in her presence. "Here are the firs' years, Perfesser McGonagall. All safe and sound."

She nodded to the huge man and said, "Thank you very much, Hagrid. I'll take them from here." Professor McGonagall waved the students in through the doors. Ginny's first impression of the entrance hall was that it was as tall as the Burrow was, but with much more space. The room was lit by torches that cast spooky-looking shadows on the walls and floors. An impressively wide staircase was on one side of the room, heading upward.

Professor McGonagall led the students to a pair of double doors on the right side of the chamber. From behind the doors came the sound of hundreds of voices. The group stopped in front of the doors, where Professor McGonagall finally turned to them.

"Welcome, students, to your first year at Hogwarts," she said. "The Welcoming Feast will be starting presently, immediately following your sorting. The Sorting Ceremony will determine which of Hogwarts' four Houses you will belong to. The Houses themselves are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin." The professor's voice took on a decided chilly note as she said the last name.

McGonagall stood there, watching the children for a moment. "While you're here, the Houses will be like your family. You will live with the students in your House, eat with them, go to classes with them, and sleep in the same rooms as they do. Most of your time will be spent with your Housemates, though of course there is nothing preventing you from having friends in other houses." Professor McGonagall gave the new students a looking over. She nodded primly and said, "I shall return shortly. Please wait here quietly."

Ginny turned to Luna. "Well… I guess this is it. Are you excited?" Ginny asked.

"Oh yes, I'm very excited." Luna smiled dreamily at her friend. For all that she was showing it, one might think Luna had been put under a tranquilizing spell.

Ginny laughed at the irony. "Given any more thought to the House you wish to be in?"

Luna nodded. "I have, yes. I think I know what I want to say to the Sorting Hat when it's my turn to wear it."

"Wait… Sorting Hat? What's a Sorting Hat?" A tall boy with bulging, frog-like eyes and buck teeth approached them.

"Oh… well… Harry… You know, Harry Potter?" At the boy's nod, Ginny continued speaking. "Well, he told me that when we're sorted they put a hat on our heads. The hat can read our thoughts, and it decides which House you go into. And if there's more than one House you could go into, it will actually ask you which one you like."

"What? My brother Tony told me they'd test us on spell knowledge…" The boy seethed. "I'm going to pop him in the conk when I see him." Several of the other children visibly relaxed, making it abundantly clear that 'Tony', whoever he was, hadn't been the only one to wind up their younger relatives.

When the castle's numerous ghosts came to see the new students, Ginny and Luna stood back out of the way and watched. Each of the House Ghosts introduced themselves, and except for the Bloody Baron, all of them encouraged the students to enter their own particular Houses. The Bloody Baron merely floated through the entranceway, silently.

Before too long, Professor McGonagall was back. She shoo'd the ghosts away before speaking. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start. Please form a line and follow me."

Ginny immediately fell into line with Luna ahead of her and the girl she rode in the boat with, Ella something, behind her. The group of new students passed through the double doors and into the Great Hall itself. The wave of sound struck Ginny as if it was tangible. She remembered what Harry and Ron, and even her Mum and Dad had told her about the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle, but nothing truly prepared her for the actual _experience_ of it. The room was huge and high… and looking up Ginny was awestruck by the view of the heavens the ceiling provided. Every star was there, blinking down at her, as was the brightly shining full moon.

But what truly captured Ginny's attention were the other students. Hundreds of students were already sitting at four long tables that ran the length of the room. The light from the hundreds of floating candles reflected off the gold-colored dinnerware. The High Table, at the far end of the lines of tables at which the students were sitting, held the teachers.

Ginny craned her neck, looking around until she spotted Harry, sitting next to Ron and across from Hermione at the table to the far left. She spotted Percy and the twins, as well as Neville. When Harry waved, she smiled in return and gave him a brief wave back. At least she knew where the Gryffindor table was. She felt a bit abashed by the fact that the entire student body was watching the new students walk in. It was a disturbing feeling, being on display, and she suddenly realized that this was a bit of insight into Harry's opinions on being famous.

Ahead of the line, Professor McGonagall was seen placing a four-legged stool at the center of a wide area between the Head Table and the four House tables. She then put a truly manky-looking hat on the stool. It was very dirty, this hat, and had obviously been repaired and patched at one time or another. Judging from the frayed brim and the worn tip, the repair job was hardly recent. For a few moments, everything was silent. All eyes were on the hat. Ginny knew what to expect. When the hat began to sing, she shifted her attention away to the other tables. She spotted Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table immediately. He wasn't paying attention to the hat anymore than she was; rather, it seemed he was staring a Harry. She glanced at her husband, but he was talking to Neville in hushed tones and not paying attention to the death-glare Malfoy was giving him.

The sudden applause brought Ginny's attention back to the goings on. The hat had finished singing, and the Sorting Ceremony proper was commencing. Professor McGonagall, holding a long piece of parchment, stepped forward. "When I call your name, please step forward to be sorted. You will sit and put on the hat. Creevey, Colin!"

The nosy-parker boy who had spewed up his sweets in the boat nervously stepped out of the line and sat down. Professor McGonagall dropped the hat onto his head. At first the thing looked to be swallowing him, but Colin pushed the brim back to expose his eyes. After a few seconds, the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR".

Dabbs, Zachary!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Dane, Abraham!"

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat. The boy, who had shown himself to be in no hurry on the way to the stool, showed the same lack of hurry heading to his House table.

"Dinsden, Edmund!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Doegood, Magnus!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Ginny's attention strayed to Harry again. If she had to tell the truth, it didn't matter to Ginny where anyone else was sorted, except for Luna. She hoped her friend ended up in Gryffindor. That she herself would end up in the House of the Brave, she had absolutely no doubt. Because she wasn't paying attention, she missed it when "Derkery, Jane" became a Ravenclaw, or when "Dory, Elizabeth" became a Gryffindor. Her attention only came back to the sorting when both "Harper, Matthew" and "Honeyborne, Edith" both became Slytherins one after another.

Because the next name Professor McGonagall called out was "Lovegood, Luna!"

Ginny nervously watched her friend step from the small collection of students left to be sorted and sat on the stool. Her head was small enough that the hat seemed to fall all the way to her shoulders. Ginny frowned as the older students laughed at the sight.

Everyone began shifting nervously as time ran on and the hat still hadn't sorted Luna Lovegood. Seconds stretched into a minute. At two minutes, the hat surpassed the delay it had in sorting Elizabeth Dory. Three minutes. Four. At four minutes and twenty seconds, the hat finally called out "Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall pulled the hat from Luna Lovegood's head. The blonde-haired little girl ran to her House table, and everyone applauded, but the eyes of the teachers and older students were on the hat. Never had it ever announced a student's house with less enthusiasm…

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loud enough to capture everyone's attention and called out, "MacConnell, Graham"

This time the hat took almost no time at all to call out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Professor McGonagall looked to the parchment she carried. When she read the next name, her eyes rose to meet Ginny's. Ginny immediately felt her stomach drop through the floor, because she knew what was coming. "Potter, Ginevra!"

Ginny heard the collective murmur increase as her name was repeated across the Great Hall. Keeping her chin up, she stepped toward the stool and the old hat, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes. Even so, she couldn't help but look at Professor Dumbledore, whose eyes were locked on hers.

Ginny was sure that the extra attention afforded her by the crowd was the result of the _Daily Prophet_ and all of the articles it had featured about her, her family, and her life with Harry. She glanced quickly over at Harry, who was watching her from the Gryffindor table. He shot her a quick thumbs-up and smiled, patting the empty space next to him. She grinned back at him.

She'd only just sat when Professor McGonagall dropped the hat onto her head. It fell down, past her eyes, obviously meant for someone whose head was quite a bit larger than her own. A voice spoke directly into her head. She knew, instinctively, that it was the voice of the hat, but its sudden presence in her head still came as a shock.

_Well, this is quite unexpected. Something I haven't encountered for so very, very long. Oh, my poor, sweet girl, you don't even know what you've done to yourself, or to your paramour, _the voice of the Sorting Hat said.

_What does that mean?_ she asked. Whatever it meant, it didn't sound good.

_Ah… no, that you will have to discover for yourself. I do wish you all the happiness in the world, and offer you my sympathies for the pains you will endure,_ the Hat said. _Bit of a disappointment, really. Waiting this long to sort a Weasley who isn't an automatic candidate for Gryffindor, and the decision is already been made for me._

_Not automatically a Gryffindor?_ Ginny was shocked. _But my entire…_

_Oh no… please don't misunderstand. _The Hat sounded almost apologetic. _I'm not saying you wouldn't do well… but like your husband, you would do well in nearly all the houses. You're brave enough, don't get me wrong, but you're also loyal to a fault and you aren't afraid of hard work. You've got a quick and agile mind and you like to solve problems. And you've got a drive, a hunger almost, to succeed. It's the drive that brought you to this place, and this time… but who am I to attempt to break a soul bond. You, dear child, belong in… _"GRYFFINDOR!"

It took Ginny a long moment to realize the Hat had spoken the last word out loud. The various students applauded, especially those at the Gryffindor table. Smiling, Ginny ran to join Harry, Ron, Luna, and Hermione in the School House that would be her family for the next seven years.


	7. The Most Gentlemanly Of Vices

**Chapter Seven: **_**The Most Gentlemanly Of Vices**_

The sorting ended with "Zahir, Suleyman" sorted into Ravenclaw. When the dark-complected boy joined his Housemates, the entire mood of the room changed. McGonagall cleared away the stool and the hat, while the children looked expectantly at the empty platters and bowls on their tables. "Oh come on, already…" Harry heard Ron whine. "I'm starving over here." Harry smiled at his friend's desperate-sounding plea. Ron could eat at any time, it seemed.

When McGonagall returned to the Hall, Dumbledore stood and waited for all sound to die down. "Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts!" There was a smattering of applause. "Thank you! Now… before we begin what I am sure will be a scrumptious feast, I only have a couple of words to say: tuck in!" As Dumbledore sat, the dishes on the table were filled with foods of nearly all sorts. The students fell upon the banquet with an enthusiasm.

As soon as the food had arrived, Harry began loading his plate up with mashed potatoes, baked chicken, and something that looked like candied carrots. He was about to start in on his dinner when his attention was drawn to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy, along with Crabbe and Goyle, had stood up and were rushing toward the head table. The three boys had a hurried conference with Professor Snape; it was obvious that whatever they were talking about, the boys were upset. Snape at first simply sneered at his students, but as they continued the Potions Master shifted his gaze across the room.

Snape's eyes met Harry's and the professor sneered. In return, Harry simply gave him a blank stare. For a moment, Harry felt a slight pressure in his head, accompanied by a dull buzzing. Harry frowned as he realized what was going on. _Got you, you slimy git bastard._ Without really knowing what he was doing, Harry brought to mind a vision of Snape choking to death on his own blood. He thought to himself, loudly, _You are going to die alone, the betrayer betrayed and no one will mourn you. Did you know that, at the end, she hated you and everything you had become?_ The buzzing abruptly ceased.

The Potions teacher jerked, as if hit by electricity. At Snape's stunned expression, Harry smirked. The Boy-Who-Lived made a "gun" with his right hand, cocked his thumb, and "shot" Snape, and when he was done, he turned and blew across the end of his finger. Snape's mouth dropped open in surprise as he stared at Harry for a moment before resuming his usual hate-filled sneer. Snape said something short to Draco, dismissing the boy and turning to the Headmaster.

Harry watched Dumbledore put the conversation he was having with Professor McGonagall on hold in order to listen to Professor Snape. Snape was in fine form; he seemed to be so angry he was spitting. The Potions professor pointed in Harry's general direction several times while ranting… Harry wished he could hear what was being said, but the noise of the crowd blocked it out. Though that might not be a problem for long… Harry looked around the room and noticed that more and more of the students were turning to look at the drama unfolding at the High Table.

McGonagall leaned forward to listen, turning every once in a while to glance in Harry's direction. She was surprised and concerned by what she was hearing, no doubt. Dumbledore himself lost the twinkle-and-smile expression he usually held during the Welcoming Feast, but wasn't frowning. That was a relatively good sign… Harry might still be in trouble, but Dumbledore would at least be fair about it.

Beside him, Neville Longbottom was still as a statue. He put a hand on Harry's arm. Harry turned to look at Neville, but the other boy was staring up at the High Table. "Harry, if you get asked why you attacked Malfoy, tell them you gave him fair warning under the second law. The second law, Harry, remember it, okay? And if they ask you about snapping and disposing of the wand, tell them that you had the right to do so under the fifth law, given the contempt your opponent showed for honorable settlement. Remember that phrase too, Harry… contempt for honorable settlement. And absolutely refuse to admit you might even be a little bit in the wrong."

Hermione turned to Neville with a look that was half accusation and half befuddlement. "What are you talking about, Neville? Harry, this is childish… you don't have to fight Malfoy if you don't want to," Hermione said. "Let Malfoy whine and complain all he wants. He's insignificant… ignore him."

"Keep out of this, Hermione. You're a Mu… you're a Muggle-born, so you don't really understand what's going on," Ron said. "I don't even know everything, and I'm a pureblood." He turned to Neville. "Neville… do you think Malfoy's going to try for forced recompense?"

Neville nodded. His face grew grim as he spoke, "Harry kicked him in the bollocks. He's going to claim it was a dishonorable attack… like he knows how to even spell honor. I might not be the bravest soul on the planet, but I wouldn't stoop to insulting someone else's wife…" Neville glanced at Ginny and Hermione and blushed. "But potentially, this could be bad; the largest contingent of children from the Twelve Families here at Hogwarts is in Slytherin. The rest of us are scattered among the other Houses in ones and twos."

"Oh, crap." Harry's eyes moved to the Slytherin table. He met the eyes of Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Guy Beaumont. They were paying attention to what was going on at the High Table, occasionally glancing back at him like he was a piece of meat staked out for a lion, Harry looked at the Hufflepuffs, searching for Ernie MacMillan. Ernie was watching the High Table too, but hadn't apparently connected it to Harry. Susan Bones, on the other hand, was sitting close enough to Parkinson and Greengrass to have overheard. Susan was brazenly staring at Harry. And Brett MacFarlane… the Ravenclaw boy was deep in conversation with someone else, and wasn't paying attention to what was going on. Harry did the math. Children from nine of the Twelve Ancient Houses attended Hogwarts, and almost half of them were Slytherin. The situation with Malfoy was beginning to have serious political ramifications.

Neville was talking again. "They could side with Malfoy if this isn't played out correctly, and Harry, I hate to tell you this mate but right now the Potter family is just you and Ginny. Your name carries a lot of weight, but it might not be enough to protect you should it come to house-to-house warfare.

"Warfare?" Hermione was finally paying attention.

"Political maneuvering… ruining businesses, hostile take-overs, maneuvering so that another house is disgraced to the point that it's considered expunged from the Twelve… it's happened before," Luna explained.

Harry didn't know what to say. "So what does that mean? Recompense and all."

"It's not that big a deal." Ron swallowed what he was eating. "He's going to get you to pay some sort of penalty. Like a fine. That's all. Get you to apologize publically."

"Or have you horse-whipped," Neville said. "That's another possibility. But I don't think he'd get it since you issued a warning to the Malfoys previously. But if he demands a rematch in a formal duel, you're going to have to fight him again, Harry."

"Thanks, guys… I appreciate the information. If I have to fight him again in a formally declared duel, I'll need a second." Harry stared at the High Table, wishing that Malfoy would simply drop through the floor into the earth and die.

Ron turned to Harry with a determined look in his eye. "I'll be your second, Harry. No worries at all."

Harry smiled and opened his mouth to agree, but Neville interjected "Might not be a good idea… Sorry, Ron, but you're a great guy but a lousy negotiator. Harry, you're going to want someone who can keep a level head and maybe negotiate a way out of this."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but shut it instead. He scowled at Neville and sat back as much as he could. He looked offended at the idea that someone would think he wasn't good enough to help out his best mate.

Every student in the room turned to watch as Dumbledore stood and walked out, followed closely by Snape, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. McGonagall also stood, but her objective was obviously the Gryffindor table. She loomed over Harry and his friends for a moment, before gesturing toward him. "Follow me, Mister Potter."

Harry stood… and so did the others. Luna, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all made to follow McGonagall. The Transfiguration professor stopped and turned to her students. "The Headmaster wishes to speak to Mister Potter and only Mister Potter. The rest of you return to your meal."

"With all due respect, Professor… absolutely not!" Ginny said. She stepped forward and took Harry's hand. "We just saw Professor Snape leave with not only Draco Malfoy in tow, but Crabbe and Goyle. We were all there on the train, and we all saw it happen. If you think we're going to allow three to one odds against Harry, then you are sorely deluding yourself." She glared at the older woman, as if daring her to do something about it.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your impertinence, Miss Weasley. You do not address Hogwarts professors with that tone."

Ginny stared for a moment, but didn't move. "In that case, Professor, you might as well make it twenty points."

McGonagall's expression grew icy. "And why is that, young lady?"

"Because my name isn't Weasley and you know it's not Weasley. It's Potter, Professor. Potter, not Weasley. I would respectfully request you remember that in the future, because calling someone by the wrong name when you are aware of the correct one is rude."

The professor's expression soured even further, but she didn't say anything. "Fine… follow me." She turned on her heel and led them out the same door Dumbledore had gone through. It led to an ornately appointed chamber behind a pair of iron gates. Dumbledore sat at a long wooden table, while Snape, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle stood to one side. As the Gryffindor's entered, Snape's expression grew positively venomous.

"Certainly, Headmaster… let's all hear whatever cock-and-bull story Potter's concocted to explain this baseless attack." The Potions Master was positively dripping with distain and hate.

"Minerva…" Dumbledore looked over the other children "… we only required Harry's presence. Why are the rest of them here?"

"They wouldn't allow Mister Potter to leave alone. Apparently, they were witnesses to the encounter between Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy on the train, and feel their testimony is pertinent."

"Ah. I see…" Dumbledore looked the six Gryffindor's over very carefully. "Very well, then. Harry… Draco tells me that on the train you attacked him for no reason, and did so in a most unsavory manner. He also says that you stole his wand before he was able to escape your attack. Would you like to answer these accusations?"

"Um… yes, sir… we… that is, the six of us… were just talking in our compartment. We were talking about what House Luna and Ginny wanted to be sorted into, when Malfoy just barged in and started insulting people. Specifically, he insulted Ginny and me. He accused her of being unfaithful to me, sir, and of having an affair with Luna." That caused the adults in the room to raise their eyebrows. "He also said I wasn't enough for Ginny, but I'm not sure precisely what he meant. It sounded like an insult, so I took it as one."

"Harry, physically attacking another student because of a few verbal insults isn't proper behavior at Hogwarts. That reason isn't good enough," Dumbledore said.

"But Professor… I warned his father that if Malfoy said another word against Ginny, there'd be a fight. I made that warning under… under law…" Harry glanced toward Neville. The other boy had a hand on his chin, and he was maintaining a very neutral expression… and as Harry watched, Neville curled his fingers in until only were two left.

"… Under Law Two. I gave proper warning, so when Malfoy continued his insulting behavior, I was free to act as I saw fit under the law." Harry saw Dumbledore glance back and forth between Neville and Harry quickly, and noticed the slight smile the Headmaster gained.

"And Mister Malfoy's wand?" McGonagall asked.

"I took it, as was my right under the..." a glance at Neville "… Fifth Law."

"I see." Dumbledore sat back. His expression was unreadable. "In that case, I have no choice but to concede that the fight was legally proper and thus cannot be punished by the staff of Hogwarts. Harry, would a formal apology from Mister Malfoy be enough to gain back his wand?"

"Perhaps Sir, had I not snapped Malfoy's wand and discarded it out the window of the train." Harry was amazed he was able to say that without smirking. Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore all gasped in response to Harry's words.

"Harry, do you realize the statement that such actions make to the Malfoy family?" Dumbledore asked. His eyes were on Draco Malfoy, who was fuming. "You're telling him you think he's not worthy to possess magic."

Harry looked into Malfoy's eyes for a long moment before responding, "All right. I'm fine with that."

"You're fine with… You just snap… Explain to me, Mister Potter, how you expect Mister Malfoy to function in class, if you've snapped his wand?" From McGonagall's face, she was livid.

"Professor, with respect, I fail to see how that is my problem." Harry barely kept himself from laughing. He respected McGonagall too much to laugh at her. "What I did was legal and appropriate according to custom. I did nothing wrong. If anyone is to blame for Malfoy losing his wand, it's Malfoy. Next time, maybe he'll learn to keep his tongue behind his teeth."

McGonagall let a long, irritated breath out of her body. She looked to Dumbledore, who was tapping his lips with a finger as he watched the exchange. "And if he comes back to you, seeking retribution?"

"Well, Professor…" Harry said, utterly serious, "I suppose snapping his wand could become a habit for me."

"You see what I mean, Headmaster? The boy is a spoiled, arrogant brat. He's flaunting school rules regarding student fighting and is proud of his theft and his insults to another student." Snape sneered down his nose at Harry. "He should be expelled, and when he is, I suggest we allow Mister Malfoy the pleasure of snapping Potter's wand." Harry didn't react. He'd come to the decision right then and there that he wasn't ever going to convince Snape to see him for who he was rather than who his father had been…

The thought shook Harry for a moment. _Now just where did that come from? What does that mean, who his father had been? I don't know anything about my dad…_

"Severus, we'll talk about this later. In the mean-time, it seems that while I disagree with the actions Harry has taken toward young Draco, they fall within the law and are not within the jurisdiction of the Office of Headmaster," Dumbledore said. "However, I'd like to serve notice that unsanctioned dueling will be punished as severely as I am able. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded immediately. Draco merely sulked.

"Good," the Headmaster continued. "Now, all of you… I suggest we return to the Feast… it won't end, as the saying goes, until the Headmaster says it ends, and to be brutally honest I was looking forward to seeing what was offered in the way of puddings this year."

XxxxxxX

Ginny slid into wakefulness slowly. She stretched a little, and yawned. Harry was already awake, she knew. He was always awake before she was, though he usually fell asleep before she did. She scooted back, and Harry gave her a hug.

"Good morning," he said. "Your first morning at Hogwarts!"

"I know!" she said in a hushed voice. She did not know what time it was, exactly, but it seemed pretty early. Ron snored loudly from the bed beside theirs, and the other boys made wheezing, snuffling sounds in their sleep. They did not have to be up at any particular time, as long as they made it to breakfast before ten. As September 2nd had fallen on a Thursday this year, they had three more full days before classes began.

When the Feast had ended the night before, Professor Dumbledore gave a series of notices. He had reminded everyone that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits; he's announced that try-outs for the House Quidditch teams needing players were being held the second week of the term; he'd introduced Gilderoy Lockhart as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; and then he had sent everyone up to bed.

She snuggled up against him even closer. In many ways, having a husband was like having a large teddy bear that could talk, and Harry was a champion cuddler. _No wonder why Mum and Dad like being married so much, _Ginny thought. She frowned, though, when she felt something poking her. _Did Harry forget to put his wand away? _It couldn't be her wand; she remembered placing it in an honored position on the bedside table.

"Harry, did you sleep with your wand?" she asked.

"No," he said, confused. "Why?"

"What's that thing poking me then?"

"Oh! That," he said. He sounded slightly embarrassed. "That's my... you know. It sticks out in the mornings when I really have to have a pee."

Ginny snorted into the pillow. "Seriously? Boys are so _weird_!"

"So are girls," Harry said, sounding defensive. "Girls are always up to odd things."

"But we don't stick out when we've got to pee," Ginny giggled.

"How do you know?" Harry asked. "You might have something weird that you just don't know about yet. This didn't start happening until last year."

Ginny turned over so he could see her grin. "Doubt it. _Girls _just aren't weird like _boys_."

"I'm not going to win this, am I?" Harry said. He tried to sound put-out but his green eyes were twinkling. She shook her head. "In that case, I'm going to go have that pee…"

"And then can we explore?" Ginny sat up when he rolled out of bed. "With your cloak? Like you told me about? Oh, can we go see Hagrid? I haven't seen him for so long!"

"Breathe, Ginny," Harry shoved his glasses on. "We'll do all that and more. I'll even show you where Fluffy almost ate us up."

Ginny swung her legs off the bed, but couldn't help diving back to the pillow to muffle her laughter. It wouldn't do, after all, to wake up Harry's dorm-mates.

"What is it this time?" Harry whispered.

"Just your pajamas," she chortled and pointed. "You're still pokey!"

He tapped her on the head and fluffed her hair a little. Ginny had already noticed that Harry liked her hair, and touched it whenever he could. "Just you wait... I'll bet there's a thing about girls that's even weirder. Now go get dressed and I'll meet you down in the common room in five minutes. Breakfast, then I can show you around the castle!"

XxxxxxX

After breakfast, the group split. Harry announced to everyone that he was going to explore the castle and the grounds with Ginny, half-way expecting everyone to accompany them. Ron, however, announced that he was going to take advantage of the free time by sleeping. Neville, Luna, and Hermione mentioned finding something to read in the Library. The Fearless Explorers were reduced to two, and that suited Harry just fine as well. The tour let them spend time alone together, and time alone was something they'd had a hard time finding. But after an hour it was clear that the castle was basically the castle.

"Well…" Ginny had said "… I never thought a big pile of stones would be all that boring with nothing going on, but it is. Do you think we could go outside, Harry?"

"I don't see why not. We could walk around the lake, or go down to the…" Harry trailed off and his grin began. "Let's go back to Gryffindor Tower… I'll grab my broom! We can go down to the Quidditch Pitch and fly around a while."

"It's too bad you forgot your broom, Harry. We could go flying!" Ginny said, hugging him.

"So let's go get my broom." The pair made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, and shortly thereafter were approaching the school's Quidditch pitch.

"I've never been to a real pitch, Harry… just the field behind the house, and that doesn't count."

"You were at the World Cup… the biggest pitch I've ever seen," Harry said softly.

"What? I've never been to the World Cup, Harry. What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Hmm? What? The World Cup? No, I've never been either. I think it would be wicked fun, though," Harry shrugged. "So… you can go first since we've only the one broom."

"Are you sure?" Ginny looked surprised. "I figured you might want to… you know… do tandem, or take turns, but I figured you'd want to go first."

"Nah, you go on." He handed her the Nimbus. In moments, she was soaring across the grass. She was, he thought, a marvelous flyer, though obviously under-practiced. _That's what happens when the only time you're allowed on a broom is the middle of the night…_ he thought to himself.

"Morning, Harry!" A familiar voice called from behind Harry. Oliver Wood approached. "Getting in some flying practice to keep the form up? Perfect day for it…" The sky was a spectacularly clear blue today, and the temperature was fine for Scotland in the late summer. "Who's that then?" Wood asked, indicating the girl on the broom.

"That's Ginny. I'm letting her have first go on my broom. She doesn't have one of her own, though I think I might have to remedy that at Christmas." Harry smiled as he watched the love of his life bob and weave, putting his racing broom through its paces.

"Ginny… she's the one you…"

"I see you read the _Prophet_ then," Harry said sardonically.

"Well… it was pretty hard to miss. Congratulations, I suppose. Never saw you as a married man, to tell you the truth… especially not at age twelve," Wood laughed. "You're always a surprise, Harry."

The pair of them continued to watch Ginny as she climbed sharply, tipped the nose of the broom downward, and dove for the grass. She pulled out at around the twenty foot mark, and shot across the field toward the far goal.

"She's good," Oliver said, never taking his eyes from Ginny as she sped around the pitch. "Not as good as you, Harry, but then you're the best flier Hogwarts has ever seen. But she is good."

Harry looked at Wood out of the corner of his eye. One of those strange, fuzzy thoughts popped into his head, but he bit down on it before he said anything. "You know, Oliver… if we had some backup players, then we wouldn't be a man short if we have injuries, or illnesses, or… I dunno… Defense Teachers who try to kill me or something."

Oliver Wood snorted. "I'd heard rumors about Quirrell, but didn't want to intrude to ask." He continued to watch Ginny. He turned to Harry before saying, "Backups are a good idea, but… if you were thinking about _her_…" He bobbed his head in Ginny's direction "… I'd like to remind you that she's only a first year,"

Harry put his hands on his hips and just looked at the other boy, an odd expression on his face.

There were several seconds of silence before Wood nodded and grinned. "All right… point… I'll talk to the other members of the team and see what they think of having a try-out for some backups."

"I'm sure they'll go for it if it increases our chances to win. I can think of three or four people who I might encourage to try out already," Harry said.

"Oh yes?" Wood eyed Harry speculatively. "Such as?"

"Well, Ginny of course… then there's Ginny's brother Ron, who I think would make a fair Keeper with some training and practice." At Oliver's scandalized look, Harry quickly added, "Hey, I'm not the only person on this team who can be injured…"

After a moment, Wood nodded. "Anyone else?"

"Sure… three more of the Firsties. I think Coote and Peakes might make pretty good backup for the twins, and that girl Demelza Robins… she might make a fine Chaser one day. We'd need to train them so they were ready, and I doubt they'd see play… this year at least, but it never hurts to see what's what, right?" Harry waved as Ginny swooped low over their heads, laughing.

"So you've talked to these kids yet?"

"Oh no…" Harry said. "Just a feeling, really… I'm not sure why I suggested those guys, but…" Harry shrugged, not able to really tell Oliver Wood where the names came from. "I'm thinking it will be our first step to permanent Gryffindor supremacy on the Quidditch Pitch."

"Ahah! Yes, I like that idea, Harry." Wood slapped Harry on the back. "Well, I'm going to pull out a broom and hit the air. Want me to grab one for you so you can have your girlfri… huh… your wife, I mean, fly rings around you on that broom of yours?" The captain of the Gryffindor House Team stepped toward the door leading to Gryffindor's storage area in the pitch's broom closet.

"Yeah, I suppose that'll be fine." Harry stepped toward the door, but stopped at Oliver's expression. The older boy had just opened the door to the broom shed, and had stopped, open-mouthed, before stepping inside.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God! Where did these come from?" The older boy stepped in, and in a moment stepped out with two shiny, black-handled Nimbus 2001s. "These are the latest model! They've only been out for three months! How did we end up with seven of them?"

"Oh… yeah… wow… they got here _quick!"_ Harry cast his eyes about, looking for a convenient lie to tell Oliver regarding the broom's origins. "I suppose an anonymous donor took pity on the school and replaced the house brooms."

Oliver Wood eyed Harry speculatively. "Do you know anything about this?"

XxxxxxX

An easy-going Friday became an easier-going Saturday. The entire student body took it upon itself to enjoy the last of the truly warm weather as summer began to end. Scotland was a relatively cool country, and summer never lasted that long, and any chance to be outside in the sunshine was a chance taken. The castle was overrun with children with too little to do and too much time to do it in, and while the professors viewed it all with some amusement (such a condition had occurred before in their memory, of course), they also saw it as slightly exasperating. But there it was.

There wasn't too much in the way of harmful horseplay… the occasional jinxing back and forth between rival students, or the Weasley twins upping their seeming crusade to annoy the Slytherins as much as possible all kept the teachers on their toes. But it also kept them distracted, which is why they never saw the duel coming.

The other students in Gryffindor had already noticed that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny were hanging together as a group, even over such a short period as the long weekend. Most had read the articles about Harry Potter and his supposed "wedding" to Ron Weasley's sister, but they weren't actually sure what to make of it, really. What they did know was that the six of them hung out together almost exclusively over the weekend.

They were all sitting at breakfast, chatting over their last day before classes, when Neville's head abruptly snapped up. "Prepare to have your morning ruined," he announced to his friends. When they looked at him curiously, Longbottom pointed toward a group of approaching Slytherin students; Draco Malfoy was prominently in the lead. "Seems Draco's been doing some politicking," Neville commented off-handedly.

Other than the ever-present Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy was accompanied nearly all of Slytherins' remaining roster of children from the Twelve Families. To Harry's eyes, only Daphne Greengrass was missing. He looked past the approaching group toward the Slytherin table; sure enough, Greengrass was watching… but she didn't look very happy about what was going on.

Harry swallowed what he had been chewing, gave Ginny's hand a squeeze, and stood up. He casually wiped his mouth off with a napkin, and had time to take a quick sip of pumpkin juice before Malfoy spoke up.

"Potter," Malfoy put as much disgust as he could into the single word.

"Malfoy," Harry, on the other hand, put nothing but boredom in his voice.

"On Thursday, on the train to Hogwarts, you attacked me in a manner unsuited to gentleman and certainly of such a nature as to be dishonorable. As such, you're supposed right to take my wand was negated. The fact that you then snapped that wand is an insult I refuse to bear. I formally declare in the presence of these witnesses and in the presence of Longbottom there…" Draco pointed past Harry "… all members of the Twelve Great Families, that I seek enforced reparations."

Harry stood silent for a moment. "Wow, Draco… how long did it take you to memorize that? Couple of hours, I bet." Standing just behind and to the right of Goyle, Guy Beaumont abruptly snorted and grinned. Harry's eyes widened as he realized that his joke was more accurate than he expected. He studied the group for a moment. Harry turned to look at his friends. Ron seemed anxious, Hermione looked nervous, Neville was studying everything that was going on, and Luna… seemed to be daydreaming again.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree, Draco." Harry knew that the continued use of Malfoy's first name just made the insult deeper, as it showed disregard for the other boy's status. "I gave you fair warning back at Flourish and Blott's that any rudeness toward my wife would be punished. You were rude to my wife, and you were punished."

"Through ungentlemanly means, Potter," Pansy Parkinson interjected. "Mister Malfoy isn't disputing your right to attack… merely the method of your attack itself. Now, will you stand to and offer reparations, or are you admitting to being dishonorable."

"What reparations are you demanding, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"A chance to redeem my honor, Potter… a real duel this time. Refereed, with rules and everything. That way, everyone will see which person is superior…" Malfoy's sneer deepened "… and which one is polluting his bloodline."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine… when do you want to fight me?"

"Oh, I'm not challenging you, Potter," Malfoy smirked. "I'm challenging _**her!**_" Malfoy raised his arm and pointed right at Ginny. "She's the cause over which you struck the low blow, so she's the cause of the conflict. She'll be the one to defend it."

"No… I will not allow it," Harry said, his voice rising.

"Five points from Gryffindor for yelling in the Main Hall. Where do you think you are, Potter…?" Harry closed his eyes in frustration. He hadn't even heard Snape approach. "What is going on here, Mister Malfoy?"

"We are attending to a matter of honor according to the Old Code. I've been insulted and have asked for enforced reparations, sir." Draco's smirk had become an open smile. "According to Law Six and Law Thirteen, I've just challenged _Miss Weasley_ to defend her supposed family."

"And I said I won't allow it," Harry said.

"Tut tut, Mister Potter… surely a scholar of the Old Code knows that under the laws stated by Malfoy, you have no say in the matter." Snape turned toward Ginny. He examined her for a moment in the same way that he might examine a newly discovered fungus. "Well? How do you answer Mister Malfoy's challenge, _Miss Weasley?"_

As they spoke Ginny had grown redder and redder and redder. "It's Missus Potter, Professor, and I will thank you to remember it. As for Draco's challenge, I accept." Her eyes met Harry's and her expression softened. "Don't worry, love… he asked for a controlled duel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Very well, _Miss Weasley_… who will be your second?" Snape emphasized the use of the incorrect name, grinding the insult home.

"Hermione."

"What? No, I'll be your second!" Harry demanded.

"You can't be, Harry…" Neville said, suddenly. "You're the head of the family, and as such you can only answer direct challenges to you. I'll be her second. No offense to Hermione, but I know the rules better than she does." Neville turned his attention back to Malfoy. "Who is your second, sir?"

Draco nodded back toward Crabbe. "Vincent Crabbe."

Neville nodded. He'd expected it. "Crabbe, I'll be meeting with you shortly to discuss the rules of engagement. Professor Snape, I expect you already have the where and when set up?"

"In order to be most accommodating to all involved, an area and time has been arranged," The Potions Master said. "Four this afternoon, in the back courtyard. And _Miss Weasley_, I suggest you show up, or else I'll let the Slytherins know its open season on your entire family." With that, the bat-like professor left.

The Slytherin delegation had turned to leave when Ginny abruptly called out, "Malfoy… just out of curiosity, whose wand will you be borrowing for the fight?"

Draco stopped and responded, "Not that it matters to you, but my father bought me a new one!" He held up the new wand with a flourish.

"Good! I'd hate to see you get someone else's wand snapped. Be seeing you." Ginny sat back down, her face flushed.

Hermione just shook her head. "This is not good."

XxxxxxX

"You know Snape is behind this, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"The slimy git almost has to be… this was pre-planned, of course, but there's nothing to be done about it now but forge ahead." Neville put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "So… remember the rules, okay? You're not allowed to use anything lethal, or anything normally non-lethal in lethal ways. Oh, and Crabbe insisted on no physical contact. If you're disarmed or rendered unconscious, you lose. If you're knocked off the platform, you lose. If you concede by demanding mercy, you lose. Got it?"

Ginny just nodded.

"Good," Neville continued. "Oh, and if either of you cheats by striking a dishonorable blow, or using a spell you're not supposed to, all bets are off; your opponent can use whatever spell he wants, outside of the Unforgiveables if you cheat.. I wouldn't count on Snape objecting if Malfoy decides to cheat, so kick his ass and kick his ass quickly."

Ginny nodded again. "Thanks, Neville."

The three of them were gathered at one end of the long, thin platform that had been erected in the back courtyard of the castle. Word had quickly spread across the school, so naturally enough the entire school was gathered around the periphery to watch. The headmaster and the other teacher's were all gathered on one of the ramparts overlooking the courtyard. Among all the instructors, only Professor Snape, who had declared himself the referee, and Professor Lockhart, who had tried to give Ginny all kinds of bad advice, were down among the students.

"All right… let's get this over with," Snape finally called. "Combatants, please take your places."

Ginny climbed up to the platform and watched as Draco Malfoy appeared at the other end. When they had taken their places, Snape waved his wand and a pale, translucent wall of magic came up around the entire platform, protecting the spectators from stray spells.

"I only ask this because custom requires it. Draco Malfoy, is there any way this matter can be solved outside of combat?" Snape asked the question in such a casual, off-hand way it was obvious he knew what the answer was.

"_Miss Weasley_ there can get down on her bony, blood-traitor knees in front of me and kiss my white ass, begging for forgiveness the whole time." A low murmur rose among the crowd at the intense insult Malfoy was offering. Ginny gripped her wand so tightly that she came close to snapping it. At the last second, though, she took a deep breath and brought herself to a level of calmness she didn't expect. It was almost as if she was suddenly watching herself from outside her own body…

"Response, Miss Weasley?" Snape asked.

Ginny eyed the Potion's Master speculatively. Attacking the referee of a duel was considered dishonorable, which was too bad. She really wanted to shove her wand somewhere painful and fire off the most vicious hex she could think of. "Draco doesn't need me to kiss his ass, Professor… that's what Crabbe and Goyle are for. I'm sure they're more used to being on their knees in front of Malfoy than I ever will be."

Draco's mouth fell open in shock. "You bitch!"

"Believe it!" Ginny responded.

"Enough!" Snape interrupted any possible response. "When I give the signal, you may commence your duel." Snape stepped down from his position at the center of the platform and began the count. "One! Two!"

On two, Malfoy slashed with his wand and called, _"Relashio!"_

Ginny barely had time to duck out of the spell's way. She hadn't anticipated the cheating to start so soon. Ginny smiled as she heard Harry protesting; her husband's voice was muffled by the Spectator Ward, but she could clearly hear him calling for Snape to do something. Not that he would, of course. Silently, she pointed to Malfoy and thought _Duploconflagrio!_ Two fist-sized balls of fire rocketed toward her opponent. She rolled sidewise and thought _Rictusempra, Tarantallegra!, Stupefy!_ pushing as much power as she could into all three spells.

Malfoy's eyed widened in shock. He managed to get a Shield Charm up in time to block the twin fireballs; the three additional spells struck his shield as well, and it barely held. He quickly cast two Stinging Jinxes in return.

Ginny jumped to the side, but was clipped in the shoulder by the second Jinx. She felt her shoulder swell in pain; her left arm was useless to her now… it just hurt too much to use it. She fell back in shock as a Cutting Curse she hadn't seen coming struck her in almost the same location. _First blood to Malfoy! _She thought.

She stared at Draco Malfoy for a second. He was accurate with a wand, though his spell choices were limited. And he couldn't cast silently yet. She cast a Bedazzling Charm, hoping it would disrupt his aim, and cast one of her favorites at him. _Chiroptomucosa!_

Draco saw the far end of the platform blur and smiled in response. "A duelist who goes on the defensive is a duelist who's about to lose, Weasley!" He called. Draco saw the gray-green beam of light coming at him and dodged aside. _"Stupefy! Stupefy!"_ He sent the two curses toward two separate locations on the platform, hoping to bracket Ginny.

Ginny called up a Shield Charm and stepped directly into one beam's path, knowing he was going to try to shoot the center spot. _Change the conditions of the game, Ginny_, a familiar, comforting voice sounded in her head. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded so familiar… _He's more accurate than you are, and faster… you know more spells, so use that against him._ She nodded to herself, and then changed her point of aim. For the first time in the duel, she cast a spell audibly: _"Confringo!"_

The platform below Draco's feet exploded. The boy himself flew backwards, crashing into the Spectator Ward and falling to the ground limply. Malfoy started to wail, obviously in pain. His legs were bleeding heavily and everyone in the audience could see long, bloody splinters of wood piercing his robes through into his legs.

Ginny walked to the edge of the ruined platform. "My opponent is no longer on the dueling platform. I win," she said to Professor Snape, who was watching her in shock. She turned to leave, but remembered something. "Oh… yeah… I forgot…" She turned back to Malfoy. "_Accio Malfoy's Wand!"_ The new wand flew into her hand.

"Miss Weasley, do not do what…" Snape began.

"My last name is Potter, Professor." Ginny snapped Malfoy's new wand almost casually and tossed the pieces onto the boy's bleeding body. "I insist that you use it in the future."


	8. Class Struggles

**Chapter Eight: ****Class Struggles**

It was a very worried Albus Dumbledore who swept into the Headmaster's Office, just ahead of Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. "Yes, Minerva, I assure you I was there and I was watching. I do realize what it means. I just don't know how she could have knowledge of some of those spells."

"That's the mystery." Flitwick interjected. "Young Mister Malfoy's knowledge of dueling spells I can understand. Undoubtedly his father has been hiring private tutors since the boy was old enough to know one end of a wand from the other. But our Mrs. Potter, given their... financial situation... I doubt her parents could afford a private tutor. Besides, no tutor I know would teach a child the Detonator Curse!"

"I don't know if either of you was keeping track, but I did," Professor McGonagall said. She held up her fingers and ticked them off as she spoke. "She cast what looked like the Firespiral Charm, the Dancing Curse, the Tickling Charm, the Bedazzlement Charm, and the Stunning Curse, all silently. Then there was that... whatever it was... a curse I didn't recognize, followed by the Detonator Curse, cast verbally. So that's... one 'first year' spell, two 'third year' spells, a 'seventh year' spell, and a spell that is generally only taught in Auror training. Let's not even mention that she's five years away from being taught how to cast spells silently. How is it possible, Albus?"

"You forgot the Shield Charm," Flitwick added idly. He was waiting for Dumbledore's answer as hungrily as McGonagall was.

"Oh yes, and the Shield Charm." McGonagall had run out of fingers.

"I have a few theories, but unfortunately each is as unlikely as the last." It wasn't often that Albus Dumbledore admitted when he was stumped, but this situation had him truly puzzled. "What has me worried, Minerva... Filius... isn't Ginny Weasley's... excuse me, Ginny _Potter's_ broad spell knowledge. It's the power she put into them. Mister Malfoy's end of the dueling platform was shattered. Even granting a first year student being able to cast the Detonator, she shouldn't have been able to cause as much damage with it as she had. I'd expect an effect like that if she was twenty-five or thirty, certainly... but eleven?" He threw his hands up. "I admit it.... I am vexed."

"Well... I think we should keep an eye out. It's clear that she --" Flitwick stopped talking as Severus Snape swept into the Headmaster's office. "Severus, you look like someone just force-fed you a particularly sour lemon."

"Headmaster, I demand that you immediately expel that... that... _girl_!" The venom present in Snape's voice gave the atmosphere in the room a truly chilly tinge. "Draco Malfoy is in the Hospital Wing right now and Madame Pomfrey says that it will be days before he walks again. And she intentionally disobeyed me by snapping his wand! A violent, uncontrollable child like that cannot be allowed to endanger --"

"Severus!" McGonagall interrupted. "How dare you suggest... may I point out that Malfoy brought his injuries on himself? It was, after all, his challenge that sparked this duel! If he underestimated his opponent, it's his own fault and not Mrs. Potter's."

"While we're on the subject of Malfoy's challenge, Severus," Flitwick added, "perhaps some notice should be made of the manner in which he challenged the girl, rather than Mister Potter himself. It was almost as if someone specifically advised him to single out the... shall we call her a seemingly _softer _target than Mister Potter? Or that Malfoy seemed to know that, as head of the Potter Family, Mister Potter would be forced to either apologize to Malfoy or else allow the duel to proceed? I somehow doubt Malfoy thought of that particular tactic himself."

The change in Snape was immediate and total. The sneer he habitually wore shifted slightly, becoming much more calculated and formal. "I have no idea to what either of you are referring. If you are implying that I might have been behind this duel --"

"I'm sure no one is implying any such thing," Dumbledore said. He looked sharply at Flitwick and McGonagall. "However, Minerva does have a point. Mister Malfoy isn't permanently injured? No? Good. And he did bring this on himself, Severus. So I think it best if we let things alone. Hopefully, the school will settle down once classes start."

"So she won't be punished for disobedience? She snapped his wand in --"

Flitwick's expression was cheerful, but his tone was absolutely frigid. "She snapped his wand in accord with ancient custom regarding duels, Severus. Or are you truly saying that had Mister Malfoy been the victor, we wouldn't now be talking about Missus Potter's need to acquire a new wand?"

"Yes, well... be that as it may, no, there will be no punishment, as nothing occurred that technically could be called a violation of the law or the rules of this school." The headmaster stared directly into Snape's eyes. "And as such... I would be very, very disappointed in you if you were to take the frustration you feel over this duel out on either of the Potters. Is that clear, Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster... you wish me to coddle the brats," the Potions Master spat. "As always."

"Call it what you will, Severus, but do not use your authority as a teacher to punish them for anything other than legitimate violations of school rules. Is that clear?"

"As crystal. Since there seems to be no more need for me to be here, I'll return to my offices." Snape turned on his heel and left.

Flitwick's eyes followed Snape out of the room. "Albus, I know you believe differently, but... I trust that man about as far as I can comfortably spit a live bowtruckle."

"Severus has my complete confidence, Filius, just as you have." Dumbledore idly scratched his chin through his beard. "I think it would be safest for us to take a wait-and-see attitude regarding Ginevra Potter. If one of you sees an opening to naturally ask a question, take it. But I don't think pressing the issue would get us very far."

"A sound plan, Albus. I'd hate to think we suspected her of wrong-doing. She's not misbehaving; after all... she's just... unusual." McGonagall smiled primly.

"That's very true. For now, let's just treat her as we would any other student," Dumbledore smiled back. "Who knows... perhaps the answers we seek will come to us under their own power."

XxxxxxX

Very few of Draco Malfoy's "friends" visited him while he was recovering in the Hospital Wing. Rather, that night a meeting of the most important and influential Slytherins was called. Most of the students who arrived looked lost, or angry, or both.

Marcus Flint, the seventh year Prefect, Quidditch Captain, and unacknowledged second-in-command to their Head of House, Professor Snape, called for everyone to be quiet. "All right... what do we do about Potter?"

From a dark corner, a female voice rang out, "What do we do? What do _we _do? What do you mean, what do _we _do? _We_ do nothing. The last place I will be is in between Potter and Malfoy. Nor shall I be standing too close behind that blond imbecile. And I am leaving that mail-order-bride of his alone too! _What should we do about Potter?_ I'm surprised you blockheads haven't learned your lesson already."

"Who's that... come out where we can see you!" Flint ordered.

Daphne Greengrass stepped forward as she spoke. Her voice was cutting, all the way to the bone. "I heard you, planning this, you know. _'Oh, she can't know anything yet, she's a dirt-poor blood traitor. She can't afford summer tutors, and there's no way her family would teach her any spells that might actually be good for something.'"_ Her glare burned into everyone in the common room. _"'Potter might be a handful, but his girlfriend's just a baby... she'd make an easy target!'_ You morons. Haven't you paid attention to anything? Potter took down the Dark Lord at fifteen months, for Merlin's sake... and last year he not only drove him away again, he killed the teacher whose job it is to teach _Defense!_ Do you really think he hasn't taught his little crumpet any tricks?"

Everyone else looked around for someone, anyone, to say something. Finally, it was Marcus Flint who responded. "Those weren't just tricks. What business does a firstie have casting those spells? Where could she have learned the Detonator Curse? Or the Bedazzlement Charm? That's not taught until sixth year. And that... that thing with the two balls of flame... whatever that was... how'd she know how to do that, then, when I've never heard of the thing? There is something very odd about that girl! She shouldn't be able to cast the magic she used."

Guy Beaumont's voice was a bit hesitant. He'd lost a lot of his personal standing in the House after backing Malfoy. He looked around at his fellow fourth years, and none of them would meet his eyes. "Maybe she's just... really... powerful..."

"Oh, you think?" Daphne rolled her eyes. "One of you geniuses should have considered the idea that a wizard as magically powerful as Potter wouldn't just pick a hayseed from the sticks like Weasley for nothing. Did any of you actually think about it? What else can she offer? She's poor as a church-mouse, she's not much to look at, she's awkward, she's uncouth, and I doubt she'll ever grow out of the word "boyish". She's from a family that, if they aren't actually bottom ranked then certainly they can see the bottom from where they are. She's got absolutely nothing else to offer someone like Potter _except_ the possibility of squeezing out particularly powerful magical children." She glanced around the room, dumbfounded. "And not a one of you thought of it. To think you actually call yourselves Slytherin."

She ignored Pansy Parkinson's and Guy Beaumont's angry looks and wasn't even giving Crabbe or Goyle the consideration in the first place. To her, Draco's bodyguards were mobile furniture, not people who counted. "The lot of you acted like a pack of brainless Hufflepuffs; Draco says jump and you're in the air before asking how high! In your thirst to take the Boy-Who-Didn't-Die down a peg, you didn't give any thought at all to the long-term consequences of your actions. And why? Loyalty to His Highness, the Blond Ponce?"

"And you can do better, can you?" Adrian Pucey stepped from the corner in which he had been leaning. "You're what... twelve, thirteen? I suppose you've got all the answers to help us recover from all this?"

"Us? What 'us' are you talking about? You're a nobody from a nobody family, and nobody cares what happens to you." Daphne turned away from him casually, as if dismissing a servant. "As for those of us who count, yes, I do have the answers. If taking down Potter is so important, then we take our time. He's a wild-card and he always has been. You can't react to him like you would to a white knight like Oliver Wood or a stiff like Percy Weasley. Study Potter; take the time to learn where his soft-spots are and what his weaknesses are. And when the time is right, stick the knife between his ribs while he's not looking."

"So... we should just... what... wait and see?" Pansy Parkinson snorted. "Wow... what an amazing plan."

"Yes, you silly, pathetic slag." Daphne rolled her eyes. "That is exactly what we should do. Just wait and see."

Lydia Blank, the other seventh year prefect, laughed. "Why are you surprised, Parkinson? We're the house of cunning and forethought, remember? Or were you put here solely because of your ambitions to someday acquire a rich, vacuous husband you could wrap around your finger?"

Pansy's jaw bobbed up and down for a moment before the girl ran for the stairs. The eyes of everyone in the room followed her. The silence held for a long, long time. No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.

"My father is going to be so angry with me." Vincent Crabbe's surprisingly high, girlish voice came out of nowhere. His comment was met with laughter.

XxxxxxX

In Gryffindor House, the atmosphere was definitively different from that in the Slytherin dungeon. When Ginny and Harry arrived back at their common room, they found a full-blown party in mid-swing. Banners with Ginny's name were hung on the wall, and someone had blown up one of Colin Creevey's photographs of Draco cowering behind a Shield Charm while fire roiled across its surface until it was ten feet high. And the noise the assembled Gryffindors made when they saw Ginny enter was almost a physical force.

"We never thought you had it in you!" Fred admitted. He pressed a butterbeer into Ginny's hand while George handed one to Harry.

The party raged all night. It threatened to continue into the wee hours of the morning. Percy had tried to get everyone to go to bed at midnight, but no one was listening to him, prefect or not. Finally, he disappeared out the portrait hole. When he returned five minutes later with Professor McGonagall, the party was, if anything, even louder. Even the Head of Gryffindor House had trouble shutting down the party until she threatened every Gryffindor student with a week of detentions if they didn't retire immediately. Class was starting the very next morning, after all, and without a good night's sleep, how could they possibly be ready for it?

XxxxxxX

The next morning, Harry and especially Ginny arrived at the Gryffindor table to an almost standing ovation. Nearly every Gryffindor was on their feet, applauding, and they were joined by not a small number of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge and various cereals, plates of kippers, sausage, and bacon, dishes of eggs cooked at least ten ways, and mountains of toast with butter, all beneath the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling. The ceiling reflected the outside sky: this morning it was looking a dull, cloudy gray.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron sat down next to Hermione, who was smiling broadly. To either side of her, Luna and Neville were grinning and clapping along with the rest of the crowd. There was a slight bounciness in the way she said "Morning!" which told the new arrivals that she had something to do with their standing ovation. Blushing at all the attention, Ginny gave a quick curtsy to the crowd before sitting down.

"Well... that was fun!" Ginny said. "I suppose everyone had been waiting for someone to put the Ferret in his place."

Neville looked confused. "The ferret? What's the ferret?"

"You know... a ferret... long, pokey little animal. They're very cute but they have an odd smell, and they get into just about everything," Ginny answered.

"I know what a ferret is, Ginny." Neville rolled his eyes. "I didn't understand why you brought ferrets up."

"Oh... because of Draco. You know... Malfoy? He's the Ferret, of course!" Ginny explained. Her tone made it sound like all of this should be self-evident.

"The Ferret?" Neville looked over to the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was busily glaring daggers at Ginny's back. Neville gave him a sarcastic wave and a nod, making the Slytherin boy's expression sour even further. "Yeah, he does sort of look like a ferret! That's brilliant! I'm going to spread that around..."

"And I'm sure Malfoy's going to love you for it, Neville," Hermione said. She had propped up a large book -- a copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's _Voyages with Vampires _-- and was reading it voraciously. The others had barely begun eating when suddenly the air above the students' heads was filled with dozens of owls.

Unexpectedly, Neville was bombed by an owl carrying a medium-sized package. The boy rubbed his head as he inspected the package.

"Mai's heer," Ron said around a mouthful of bacon.

"Really?" Neville asked sarcastically. "I never would have noticed..." He read the address. "It's from my Gran. Probably everything I forgot, like my sweater and my spare quills. Two years in a row, and I've forgotten stuff at home. My memory is total rubbish."

"You're not that bad, Neville," Harry said. "You're not any worse than –"

Harry cut himself off abruptly as Professor McGonagall arrived. "Here are your class schedules for this year. Good luck to you all!" She handed Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione cards from one stack, and Luna and Ginny from another.

"Double Herbology first thing, with the Hufflepuffs," Ron noted. He looked over at his sister. "How about you?"

"Double Charms with the Ravenclaws," Ginny said.

XxxxxxX

Once breakfast was over, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to Luna and Ginny and made their way out of the castle. They followed a steady stream of other second year students through the school's vegetable gardens, past which they could all see the school's massive greenhouses.

"Harry! Harry Potter! Just the man I wanted to talk to." It was Professor Lockhart. He strode down from the castle after the students in his turquoise robes and matching hat. The mere sight of him made Harry want to knock the man's bright, over-abundant smile right off his smarmy face. Both Ron and he scowled at the teacher as Lockhart approached; both of them missed the dreamy smile that was suddenly plastered on Hermione's face.

"Harry!" Lockhart called again. "I've wanted a word -- if your little friends would be so kind as to inform Professor Sprout that you'll be a little late? There's a lad..." Ron looked from Lockhart to Harry with a concerned look, but Harry just shook his head.

"Yeah... we'll let her know, Professor. C'mon, Hermione..." Ron muttered. He took Hermione by the elbow and led her toward Greenhouse Three.

Lockhart waited until they were out of hearing before turning his smile on Harry. The man was pouring so much charm into his entire attitude that Harry suddenly felt the need for a long, hot bath. "Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry..." Lockhart gave a magnificently staged sigh. "While I certainly appreciate the press appeal of a good scandal... when completely managed and manufactured, of course... I have to say, your opening gambit is a bit hazardous, don't you think?"

Harry had no idea what the man was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart continued, "Always keep in mind, Harry, that the public loves a hero with feet of clay! And nothing has brought down more public figures than a sex scandal! It's wonderful that you've found a bit of crumpet to keep you warm at night, if you know what I mean... but your choice, Harry!" Lockhart shook his head again. "Harry, Harry, _Harry..._ what will we do with you? You, the scion of one of the Twelve Families, and who do you marry? A peasant's daughter! Do you really think that was wise, Harry?"

Harry's blood started to boil; it was all he could do to keep himself from drawing his wand and cursing the idiot to within an inch of his life. "How dare --"

"The public doesn't want to see a hero like yourself saddled with some common country wench... they expect you to squire about with someone rich and attractive, much like yourself! That Greengrass girl, for example, or Parkinson! Trust me on this, Harry, for I have some experience. Men like ourselves, who are rich and successful and hugely popular. We're a cut above the common man." Lockhart put a fatherly hand on Harry's shoulder, and it took all of Harry's self-control to not physically attack the man. "And the common man expects us to associate with our fellows. If we were to wallow among the commons, they'd hate us for it. So my advice to you, Harry, is to make whatever use you can out of this girl of yours... have fun and sow your wild oats... but then dump her for someone more... attractive."

Professor Lockhart patted Harry on the shoulder and gave him a wink. Harry was still looking for the right words with which to respond, but by the time he figured them out, Lockhart had walked back into the castle. Harry shook his head; he truly could not believe what he just heard coming out of the man's mouth. Still in shock, he made his way to Greenhouse Three.

When he got there, the glass door was locked. A severely annoyed Professor Sprout had to stop everything in order to safely let him in. It didn't bode well for the rest of the day.

XxxxxxX

Ginny continued to doodle as the rest of the class went about the lesson. She'd completed a small, rough sketch of what she thought a crumple-horned snorkack ought to look like. Beside her, Luna was making the tip of her wand light up and blink off so quickly it began to resemble a distress beacon. She patted her friend on the shoulder and went back to her doodling.

"Unh-hem." Ginny looked up, shocked. She hadn't seen Professor Flitwick approach. "Er... Miss Potter..."

"Missus," Ginny muttered.

"What's that? Oh... yes, my apologies. Mrs. Potter, may I ask, please... what exactly are you doing?" Professor Flitwick's smile was tight, but it still conveyed the instructor's usual geniality. "The class is supposed to be practicing the _Lumos_ charm." He looked at the glowing balls floating around Ginny's head. "Can you... er... demonstrate that for me?"

Ginny smiled. "Of course, sir... right away." She picked up her wand. "_Lumos."_ The tip of her wand lit with a bright, actinic blue-white. After letting it burn for perhaps ten seconds, Ginny said, "_Nox_," immediately extinguishing the light.

Flitwick clapped twice, smiling. "Very good... er... now... if I might ask... what are these?" He gestured to the floating spheres.

Ginny looked up at the lights orbiting her head. "Those? That's just a spell Harry made up. He says it's useful for those times when you need your wand for something other than a... I think he called it a 'fastlight' or something..."

"A spell Harry made... when you say 'Harry' you mean of course Harry _Potter_? He made that up while only a first year? Amazing! What is the incantation, if I might ask?" Flitwick's eyes never left the spheres.

"It's _Lumosphera_, sir. You do this with your wand..." Ginny waited until the professor was watching her before demonstrating the sort of rolling-poke wand motion "... and say the incantation and it creates a small ball of light, like so." A glowing blue sphere appeared at the end of her wand, and she directed it to join the others.

"And... er... what caused you to try that spell?"

"Well, sir... I accomplished the _Lumos _charm pretty quickly..." As she described it, the end of her wand lit up with the usual brilliant blue-white light. "... and then I tried the _Lumospectra _charm... you know, making the light different colors?" Ginny moved her wand and thought, _Lumospectra Gules!_ Instantly, the light dimmed to a blood red color. "After I did that one a couple of times, it got boring so I tried this new one!" Ginny smiled at her professor.

"Ah, yes... that makes perfect sense I suppose. Well... do you think Mister Potter would mind my learning that interesting new charm and teaching it here at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, I don't see why not, Professor."

"Excellent. Take thirty points for Gryffindor for cleverness, and twenty more for showing me a spell I previously did not know! I must caution you though, my dear... do try and not get too far ahead of the rest of the class." The tiny professor patted her on the back of the hand and moved on. _Albus will want to know of this as soon as possible_, Flitwick thought. He was impressed by her ability and her power. She was casting these spells non-verbally already, something no first year student should know how to do, but what truly intrigued the Charms professor was her casually casting a spell taught to her by her _second year _husband. _Yes, Albus is going to be very, very interested in this..._

XxxxxxX

Ginny was relieved to hear the lunch bell. She had enjoyed Charms class well enough, other than the fact that she already knew how to do everything included in today's lesson. She's spent the remainder of the period helping Luna Lovegood learn the _Lumos _and _Lumospectra _spells. By the time Flitwick had released them, the other girl had finally caused her wand-light to shift to other colors. Luna proclaimed Ginny a genius.

But the pleasant feelings created by the Charms class were dispelled shortly into the History of Magic class. Professor Binns, the only ghost-teacher, was horribly dry and unexciting as an instructor. Ginny had a hard time keeping her eyes open, and in the end decided to not even try. When the lunch bell finally rang, she discovered that her head was lying on her desktop, in a small puddle of her own drool. Next to her, Luna's head was leaned all the way back, and the blonde girl was actually _snoring_.

When the two girls entered the Great Hall, Ginny's eyes immediately looked around for Harry. Neville and Ron were already there, and Hermione, but Harry wasn't there yet, it seemed. When she sat down, that was her first question. "Does anyone know where Harry is?"

"Professor McGonagall called him up to the High Table; there was something she wanted to discuss with him." Ron pointed towards the teacher's table. "She said it was important."

Ginny nodded thanks and got something to eat. The food perked her spirits up almost as much as getting the heck out of Binns' class had. "Luna, what did you think of the classes?" she asked.

"Charms class was very instructive. Thank you again for all your assistance in getting the Colored Light Charm right. I do think Professor Flitwick is perfectly charming; he's going to be one of my favorite teachers. He doesn't allow personal prejudices to influence his teaching, and he's rather competent." Luna's eyes darkened. "I'm afraid I don't remember everything that happened in History of Magic."

Next to her, Neville snorted. "If what happened in your class is like what happens in ours, you can't remember because you fell asleep."

"I don't remember falling asleep," Luna responded in confusion.

"Trust me, Luna," Ginny said. "You were snoring." She turned to greet the boy who was quickly approaching. "Harry! Hello, love... how was your morning?"

Harry just sat. "You're never going to guess what McGonagall just told me! That fraud bastard Lockhart gave me detention! And do you know why? He said he caught me arriving late to my Herbology class! Funny how that git didn't mention to McGonagall that he was the bloody reason I was late in the first place? Merlin!" The frustration was boiling off of the boy in waves. Ginny began gently stroking his arm in an effort to calm him down, but she was interrupted.

There was a brilliant flash of light. In response, Harry rolled backwards into the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. He drew his wand in one smooth motion and was preparing to silently send a Stunner toward the most obvious foe... and suddenly realized it was one of the new boys... Calvin... Coleridge... something like that... holding what looked like an old fashioned Muggle camera.

"Hey!" Harry yelled. "Don't do that! I could have cursed you!"

The first year boy paled. "Sorry, Harry! I'm Colin - Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor, too!" he said, all in one breath. The boy stepped forward, carefully. "I know all about you, of course. Everybody says you defeated You-Know-Who when you were a baby and everything, and about how you've got that scar..." his eyes raked Harry's forehead.

Harry scowled, and the boy took an involuntary step back. "Yeah, well... It's nice to meet you, Colin, but as you can see, I'm trying to eat lunch and get ready for my next class, all right? So... run along... or something."

"Oh, sure, Harry... I was wondering something, though... if you wouldn't mind... when I get my film developed... I'm going to get it done in a potion so the pictures move... if you wouldn't mind _signing _the picture I took of you? So I can show my dad and mum I've actually met you... I've already told them all about you, of course, from the books..."

At this, Neville busily tried to choke on his pumpkin juice. Ginny began to giggle and Hermione smirked at Harry. Ron's ears turned red, and his expression turned sour. Harry, on the other hand, was trying desperately to breathe.

"Harry doesn't give out autographs and he doesn't sign photographs, either." It was Luna, speaking out of nowhere. "You see, Colin, he's not particularly fond of the reason why he's famous, what with it being his parents' murder. He's too polite to say it, but it has to be said: please don't bother him about it again, all right?"

The Creevey boy looked crestfallen. "Oh... I'm sorry, Harry... I hadn't thought of that... I'll just..." He waved toward his own seat at the table.

Harry nodded, turning back to his meal. "I hate when that happens. Being famous is a load of bollocks."

"Luna," Hermione said, "that was a very insightful thing to say." Luna smiled at the complement, and without warning Hermione blushed to her toes.

"Yeah, thanks Luna. I appreciate it." Harry moved his fork around his plate, but didn't eat anything. Finally, he pushed it away. "I'm not hungry anymore. I think I'll head to class early. It's time to see what sort of teacher Lockhart really is."

"Okay, sweety!" Ginny kissed him on the cheek. "Wish me luck. I get to experience Professor Snape for the first time. Anything I should know beforehand?"

"Yeah... he's going to want to get back at you for Draco," Ron said around a mouthful of bread. "Expect to lose a bunch of House Points." He looked over at Luna. "Both of you."

XxxxxxX

The students all looked up as Professor Snape swept into the dungeon classroom like some great, flapping bat. He strode to the front of the class, silencing the students with only the power of his glare. "Settle down..." he intoned. It was clear to Ginny Weasley that this man shouldn't be teaching... he might be a genius with a cauldron, but after only a minute with him, she could tell he was rubbish with children.

Professor Snape proceeded to call roll, sneering every time he came to a name that wasn't in Slytherin; it seemed to Ginny, though, that his default setting was "sneer", so she determined to just get used to it. She waited carefully for her name, knowing that when the Potions Master got to it, she'd get insulted. Snape called out Luna Lovegood's name, and her friend dutifully answered. Ginny braced herself... and there was nothing. She went straight to Demelza Robins' name. She wondered what was going on for a moment, then realized. Her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she waited until Snape got to the W's. Sure enough, he called out, "Ginevra Weasley".

"It's Potter, Professor. Excuse me for saying, sir, but you've already been reminded of that," Ginny pointed out.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley, and detention, for your cheek." Snape stared at her, and she defiantly met his eyes. A slight buzzing appeared in her head, but it was easily dismissed. After a minute of mutual staring, Snape turned to the rest of the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish want-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes..." Snape began. To Ginny, it sounded like a speech the man had memorized by rote. She rolled her eyes, but managed to keep her face sill. Snape noticed anyway.

"Lovegood... ten points from Gryffindor for sitting too close to Weasley," he interrupted himself. "And while we're at it, Creevey, another ten points from Gryffindor for fidgeting in your seat. Robins, ten points from Gryffindor for sitting taller than an eleven year old girl has a right to be. Dinsden, ten points for sitting far away from Weasley!" Ginny's eyes locked on Snape again. He had just deducted points from the people sitting directly in front of her, to her immediate right and left, and directly behind her. It was obviously meant to be a way to get back at her for some imagined wrong, but why he didn't just deduct them from her, she didn't know.

The Slytherins began giggling as they realized what was going on. A black look from Snape quieted them down, but not by much. "Now, to return to the subject... in this classroom I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death... if you're not the usual bunch of dunderheads I usually have to teach." It definitely sounded like a memorized speech. "Now, for your first lesson..."

The class didn't improve from there. Professor Snape found innumerable reasons to subtract points from the Gryffindors: Edmund Dinsden was apparently breathing too loudly. Colin Creevey's quill supposedly had too many feathers. Demelza Robins put her stirring spoon down on her desk too loudly twice, and Luna Lovegood was cited for not blinking often enough. By the end of the class, Gryffindor had lost a grand total of two hundred and thirty points. But the only points Snape deducted directly from Ginny were the ten he took when she reminded him that her name wasn't _Weasley _but _Potter._

Ginny was a bundle of nerves when the class was finally over. She wanted to yell and scream at the greasy-haired bastard, but she knew it would avail her nothing. She entered the Great Hall for dinner on the verge of tears.

XxxxxxX

Some hours later, Ginny listened as the soft breathing sounds of her roommates fell into regular patterns before getting out of bed. She carefully threw on Harry's invisibility cloak and crept down, into the common room. Her older brother Percy was still sitting by the fire, reading from a textbook. She tried to step past him carefully, but had to stop suddenly when he abruptly looked up. Percy glanced around suspiciously, as if trying to locate a strange noise that wasn't repeating. After several minutes he shook his head and went back to his reading. Ginny suppressed a sigh as she climbed the stairs to the second year boy's dormitory.

XxxxxxX

Harry awoke instantly to the sound of a ferocious battle. Ron was thrashing around and looked to be in the throes of a particularly painful curse. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his lips were curled back, revealing clenched teeth. "I won't, I won't, I won't... you can't make me. Leave me the fuck alone!"

This was not a normal nightmare, and Harry leapt off his bed and tried to shake Ron awake. "Wake up, Ron! You're having a bad dream. Wake up!"

Ron's wild, jerky movements slowly began to ease, and his breathing evened out. He blinked up at Harry... his eyes looked funny in the dark. "What is it?" he asked harshly.

Harry took a step back. "You were having a nightmare," he said in a soft voice, for the benefit of Neville, Dean, and Seamus, who were miraculously still asleep. "I thought you might--"

"Leave me alone, Harry," Ron said in a strange voice. There was a pleading note to his voice that Harry thought rather odd. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But--"

Ron cut off the conversation by pulling the curtains closed. Feeling befuddled and out of place, Harry climbed back into his bed. Ron was acting so strangely lately. Moments after this thought crossed his mind, he felt someone climb onto the bed with him and settle next to him. Ginny pulled the invisibility cloak off, and Harry immediately knew, from the pensive, worried look in her bright eyes, that she had witnessed Ron's nightmare as well.

Neither of them said anything, though they lay awake for a long while. Harry could tell from the absence of Ron's snores that he had not fallen back to sleep either. He stroked Ginny's hair as she cuddled up next to him. He hoped very much that whatever was causing Ron's sullen mood would just go away...


	9. Swan Song

**Chapter Nine: ****Swan Song**

The days were getting colder and it was nearly October before Harry finally grew so frustrated with stupid Lockhart and his stupid celebrity fixation that he threw down his fork and let out a groan of frustration. He glared up at the staff table. _Incompetent moron_, he seethed. Defense Against the Dark Arts had become so awful that Harry genuinely wished that he could skive off every day.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked around a mouthful of food.

"Lockhart," he growled. "He's not a teacher... He's a damn fraud. How are we going to--"

But he interrupted himself when he saw the look of concentration on Ginny's face. _What is she thinking about? _He thought she might have the same problem he had at the moment. There was something... _something _that he needed to remember. They'd taken matters into their own hands, hadn't they?

"Lockhart's a foul git," Ron said darkly.

"He's completely awful," Neville agreed. "We're not learning _anything_."

"And look what he said about Ginny!" Hermione said.

Harry said slowly. "I think we need to - we need to--"

And then it came to him in a flash of inspiration. They needed to go to the seventh floor corridor, of course. That's where they'd get better at magic... in the room. "Come on," he said excitedly, though he looked down at his half-eaten treacle tart with a pang of regret. Ron looked equally distraught over leaving his second piece of pie only three quarters demolished.

"Come on!" he said again. Ginny was already behind him, but the others were slower and more bewildered. But they followed him out of the Great Hall, up the stairs, and into the corridor that Harry knew held something quite spectacular.

"Is he going to tell us what he's doing?" Ron asked.

Harry ignored him, though he felt the twinge of annoyance that he was beginning to be quite familiar with. Ron's behavior had been vacillating between belligerent, sulky, and downright rude, with increasingly fewer flashes of what Harry considered the 'Old Ron.' Today was no different, and he almost wished that Ron had disappeared again.

"He'll tell us when he's ready to," snapped Ginny. "Honestly, Ron, I have no idea what your problem is."

"I told you, I'm not feeling well, all right?" Ron said loudly.

It was true. Ron had not looked well for weeks, not since they had returned to Hogwarts. Hermione had pointed out just a week ago that Ron would break out into a sweat at odd times (like when they were sitting in the perfectly cool library), seemed to be on the verge of vomiting, and would occasionally even skip a meal (a far more ominous symptom). But any show of concern was met with harsh words, and Harry had not attempted to ask him about it since Ron's nightmare.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts, and frowned at the expanse of empty wall. _I wish I could remember--_

"Are those trolls wearing tutus?" Hermione asked, pointing toward the tapestry on the opposite wall. Harry ignored her.

"The room should be here... where is the door?" Harry ran his hand across the smooth stone surface. He turned to Ginny, who was staring back at him. She had that same look of concentration... as if she was on the verge of figuring out a puzzle, was on her face. "The door should be right here, shouldn't it? The room where we learned magic..."

Ginny gave a little gasp of recognition as they shared one of those moments when they understood each other on a level that none of the others could comprehend. They beamed at each other when the door appeared - as Harry had known it would - while the others looked completely bewildered.

Harry pushed it open, revealing a long, wide room with padded floors and mirrored walls. In the corners were shelves holding what he knew were texts on defensive and offensive magic. The others all piled in behind him, marveling at the sight of it.

"This place is great, Harry," Neville said. "How'd you find it?"

"I don't... really remember..." Harry said. "But we can practice spells here. Real defense spells... and we can learn better than we can with Lockhart, that's for sure."

"This isn't mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History_," Hermione said.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Ginny whispered.

"What?" Hermione looked puzzled. "That's from _Hamlet_... what you do mean by it, Ginny?"

"Not everything is in books, Hermione. Always remember that," Ginny responded, looking around.

"This is going to be cool," Ron said, displaying the first signs of enthusiasm that he'd shown in weeks. "Hermione can find all kinds of new spells in the library, and she can show them to us. And Ginny... I mean... you could show us those hexes you used on Malfoy, right? I figure since Bill or Charlie taught them to you, they aren't secrets, right?"

But Ginny was shaking her head. "No, it's not going to be Hermione or me teaching spells... it's going to be Harry. It has to be Harry."

"Why does it have to be Harry?" Luna asked.

"Because... because... I don't know why because, but it has to be..." Ginny's voice trailed off. She looked blank for a moment before refocusing. "And we can't allow Umbridge to know about this place."

Harry opened his mouth to ask _Who's Umbridge?_ But as soon as that thought crossed his brain, he suddenly remembered what it was that he had forgotten. He needed to find something... he desperately needed to find something... he needed to find the... the...

"I need the Room of Forgotten Things," he muttered.

The room around them shimmered and blurred, and when it solidified again, their surprised gazes were met with the sight of a cathedral of items: stacks and stacks of old, broken furniture, open trunks over-flowing with clothes, broken statues. Harry was a little awed by the sheer size of the place.

His bushy-haired friend gaped around in awe. "How is it possible that a room of such size is able to fit in Hogwarts?"

"Magically," Neville and Luna said together, grinning. Hermione blushed.

"Of course," she said, flustered. "But... why hasn't anyone mentioned it?"

"Maybe they don't know it exists," Ginny said. She shut the door, and the low rumble of it closing echoed in the huge room.

"I wonder if the Hogwarts elves would be able to catalog all of this," Harry looked around. Something niggled at the back of his memory. But he could not see it with any sort of clarity; he only knew that somehow it was important that he know exactly what was in this room. _I wish I knew why_...

"Why do you say that?" Luna said.

"It does seem like a good idea," Ginny said.

"But you said one of those weird things again, Harry," Hermione said seriously. "And what are house-elves?"

"Does it matter?" said Ron. For once, his tone was filled with wonder, and the sulky lines around his mouth had disappeared. "I call dibs on the carpet. Blimey, I've always wanted to fly on one of those!" Ron pointed at a rolled up carpet. Harry assumed that Ron was right, that it was one of those flying carpets that Harry had heard about but never seen. The edges of it rose and fell a little in a nonexistent breeze.

"Hermione, Luna!" Ginny had wandered a few stacks over and was bent over a trunk filled with what looked like very old dresses. "Look at this! Princess dresses!"

Hermione looked uncertain. "Are you sure we're supposed to be here? Should we touch these things?"

"You worry too much, Hermione!" Ron said. He smiled widely at her for the first time since they'd been on the Hogwarts Express. Harry hoped that Old Ron was back for good...

Hermione eyed him warily, and then turned to Neville and Harry. "Are you sure?" she said. But she was already edging over to where Luna and Ginny were now throwing gowns with large skirts and sparkling collars about with total abandonment. Ginny held up a gown made of a thin, floaty material that looked like a cloud, and Hermione lost the last of her nervousness.

"It's an Axminster!" Ron said. He'd unrolled the carpet, and now looked ecstatic. "Wait till I tell Dad... he's always wanted one..."

"I'm going to go look for another one, my gran always tells me about how her parents had one when she was little," Neville said. Harry wondered what was so special about flying carpets. He preferred brooms. _I wonder if there are any brooms in here_...

He wandered leisurely, enjoying the sound of the girls giggling as they played dress-up, and Ron whooping as he soared through the air. He did not quite know what he was looking for, and it was not until his eyes rested upon a truly beautiful, antique broom that he stopped moving, rose into the air, and wondered if Quidditch could be played on a carpet--

And was nearly knocked out of the air by a laughing Ron and Ginny. Ron was in control of the carpet; Ginny sat between his legs, wearing a velvet and lace gown that was much too big for her small frame, and a ribbon that hung drunkenly in her vivid red hair. Her face was flushed with laughter.

"You've got to try it, Harry!" Ron called.

"Let's get him, Ron," Ginny grinned mischievously.

Ron made the carpet twist and twirl; Ginny shrieked, and they headed for Harry with great speed (for a carpet). Harry flew away from them, though he was sure to stay just far enough ahead of them. He did not push the antique broom as fast as it would go... it was far more fun to spin, duck, and dive, evading Ginny's out-stretched arms.

On and on they flew, and Harry was light and weightless, gasping with laughter, playing with the two people he loved best in the world; he hoped that this was the end of Ron's strange behavior--

"Harry!" Neville shouted. "Ron! I've built a fort... let's play war!"

"Set me back down with Hermione and Luna," Ginny ordered. "I'm not going to play war."

"What if we need to capture the princess?" Harry grinned at her.

"We'll just abduct her again," Ron said. "It wasn't so hard the first time; I can do it again..."

Harry didn't think he'd ever had a better idea in his life than deciding to find this room that he'd never been in, yet seemed to hold so many vague, shadowy memories.

XxxxxxX

Luna could not decide who she found more fascinating: Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Neville, or Ron. Harry and Ginny were like two halves of a whole; sometimes she watched the way their bodies oriented themselves toward each other, and wondered if they knew they did it. She often thought that if love had a face, it would look the way Ginny did when she saw Harry. But she didn't know if it was love that made them know things, or if it was the Soul Stone. Either way, their knowingness was intriguing to watch.

"Hermione, Luna!" Ginny called. "Look at this! Princess dresses!"

Luna had always been drawn to open delight, so she joined Ginny. She walked slowly, wondering how long it would take for Hermione to join them. The older girl was as different from Luna as it was possible to be, but Luna understood Hermione more than any of the others. She made sense... it was like Hermione was made of glass, and Luna could see all the stubbornness, bravery, and insecurity all rolled up into one.

"What do you think of this dress, Luna?" Ginny asked. She held up a dress that looked very soft. "I think it might be a bit big for me..."

"Just a little," Hermione said dryly. "I think I might be able to transfigure it--"

"Let's not bother with that, Hermione." Ginny threw off her robes, and pulled a velvety gown over her head. It hung on her; it had obviously been made for a witch about five times larger than she was. "It's more fun when the clothes don't fit."

"Aren't we a little old for dress up?" Hermione asked. Her heart wasn't really in the question, though. The thought of just cutting loose and having fun with her friends was very, very tempting. "We can't just pick up and play with anything we find. These things have to belong to _someone_, and the school rules –"

"Relax, Hermione... you don't have to be perfect all the time, you know," Luna said. She widened her eyes at the older girl, hoping that she would understand what Luna was saying. Luna was very loyal to her friends, and the fact that Hermione felt somehow less worthy - though she would never admit to it - because her parents were Muggles.

Hermione's mouth fell open, and her cheeks turned pink. She turned away abruptly, and started pulling dresses out of the trunk. "This one would match your eyes," the older girl said shyly. She held out a frothy, lacy confection that was pale blue and was draped in swan feathers. Luna liked it immediately.

"I wonder who these dresses belonged to," Luna said.

Ginny giggled, and then stuck her nose in the air. "To us, surely, Lady Luna," she said.

Luna pulled on the gown. "Of course, your highness," she said. She found a pair of old, faded gloves and, ignoring the fact that they were several centuries newer than the dress, pulled them on as well. "I see Her Grace, Hermione, the Duchess of Granger is very underdressed."

Ginny lifted her hand dramatically to her forehead. "Those horrible black robes! What would Prince Harry, Lord Ronald, and the Duke of Longbottom say?"

"Duchess?" Hermione said delightedly. "I like the sound of that!"

"You just like to boss us around," Ron said, coming up behind them. Hermione's face froze - Luna didn't blame her, Ron had been quite rude to her over the last few weeks - but then relaxed.

Luna cocked her head and looked at Ron. She did not understand the red-haired boy at all, though if he was a girl, she would think that he was going through puberty. He was usually sullen and belligerent by turns, but right now his face was open in a wide smile, and he looked at all three of them with open affection.

"You need bossing around, Ron," Ginny said absently. "Help me find a dress for Hermione!"

"No way," Ron shook his head frantically. His ears turned bright red in a way that Luna found quite endearing. "I'm a bloke. We don't play dress-up. We do bloke things like--"

"Write in diaries?" Ginny said slyly. "That doesn't seem like a very macho thing to do to me. Usually, it's girls that are--"

"It isn't a _diary_," Ron said insistently. His voice was a little too loud. "It's a _journal_."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And there you go again. Why don't you go do macho things, and leave us girls to play dress-up?"

Ron stalked off. Luna watched him go, wondering where the outburst of anger had come from. He mystified her. He leaned up against the wall, and Luna thought he might be trembling a little. She thought this was a rather private moment, and decided to watch Hermione (who was equally interesting, but in a better way) instead. It was interesting to see how many different shades of pink the other girl could go...

"What do you think of this one, Luna?" Hermione asked, breaking into her thoughts. She held up a scarlet and black robe. "Think it's me?"

"If you want it to be," Luna said serenely. She did not think that Hermione's personality would fit into the dress, but her friend had the right to wear whatever she wanted. She eyed the older witch closely. She really was very pretty, but in a gentle, somewhat awkward way that made Luna want to hug her.

Hermione flushed again, but didn't look away. "You really say the oddest things sometimes, Luna. Just like Harry and Ginny..."

"Do I?" Luna asked. "Well... I suppose. And I think that for right now, when you're only thirteen years old, you should wear earth tones. You aren't ready for scarlet and black yet."

"Am I ready for it?" Ginny grinned. "I am a married woman, after all."

"No," Hermione said.

"But you are ready for this." Luna plucked a bottle-green ribbon out of the trunk. "Look... it matches Harry's eyes."

Ginny was about to say something, but a shadow passed over them. "Hey, Princess Ginny!" Ron said. He had apparently gotten over his pique, and was now grinning again. The darkness had fled from his eyes.

"Yeah, Lord Ronald?" Ginny said, though she sounded a little wary.

"I've remembered something else that blokes do," Ron said. He brought the carpet down lower, until he was at the height of Ginny's waist. Quick as a flash, he reached out, seized Ginny, and pulled her over his legs. "They kidnap little princesses!"

"RON!" Ginny shouted, but she was shrieking with laughter. They shot into the air, and their vivid red hair trailed away from them like flames. Luna couldn't help but laugh with them as the carpet rolled drunkenly from side to side while Ginny scrambled to find a better seat. "We've got to tell Dad!"

"Do you think that's very safe?" Hermione said.

"I don't think Ron will let her fall," Luna said. "And they aren't going very fast."

"Still..." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "He doesn't know what he's doing, does he?"

Luna shrugged, and turned her attention fully on Hermione. She reached over and brushed the bushy hair out of Hermione's face. "You need to put your duchess dress on, your grace," she said. "And then I'll plait your hair..."

XxxxxxX

Hermione was torn between Ron's angry outburst (another one!) and Luna's unwavering regard. She simply did not understand Ron Weasley anymore; ever since she had met him on the train, he had been a completely different person. He was snappish, and his sarcastic comments were biting and mean sometimes, rather than funny. Obviously the strange situation between Harry and his sister was getting to him.

But Luna was staring at her again, and Hermione could not keep her thoughts together. She found the younger girl even more perplexing than Ron, and Harry, and Ginny. She seemed to understand things that Hermione didn't voice, and barely thought about. Hermione was not a bundled mass of insecurities, but she had to admit that she'd had such a disadvantage being raised by Muggles. She knew nothing about the Old Laws, for instance...

Well, she _hadn't _known anything about the Old Laws. Now she'd been reading about it constantly--

Luna was _still _looking at her. She cast around wildly for something to say (Ginny was still annoyed with Ron, and would not be any help, apparently), and her eyes alit on a rather garish scarlet and black gown. She hated it... until she picked it up. It was soft and pretty and completely feminine in a slightly wicked way. She rather thought that she would never _fit _into it - not physically, but emotionally and mentally. She was a bookworm... her home was a library, not a ball.

"What do you think of this one, Luna?" she asked. "Think it's me?" She knew the answer was no, but she sort of wished it was yes.

"If you want it to be," Luna said steadily.

Hermione honestly wasn't really aware of the next few bits of conversation. _How does this girl understand me so well? It's like she can see me! But how?_

"--married," Ginny's voice cut into Hermione's thoughts.

"No," she said absently, because some sort of answer appeared to be expected from her. She watched as Luna appeared to reach out randomly and pull out a ribbon the exact shade of--

"Look..." Luna said. "It matches Harry's eyes."

"Hey, Princess Ginny," Ron said. He was his normal carefree self, and was now speaking to them again.

"Yeah, Lord Ronald?"

"I've remembered something else that blokes do," he said. He reached out and snatched Ginny up so fast that Hermione squeaked. He soared into the air - surely they were about to fall, Ron had never even been on a carpet before, and Ginny was hardly in a secure position. But both Weasleys were laughing.

"Do you think it's very safe?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think Ron will let her fall," Luna said.

_No, he wouldn't_, Hermione thought. But she watched them for a little while to be sure. It wasn't that she really thought that Ginny was in danger. But Ron had been acting so _odd _lately, and while it was very pleasant to see him acting normal, she had the feeling that it wouldn't last. "Still... he doesn't really know what he's doing, does he?"

Ten seconds later, Luna had magically reduced her stress. A minute later, Hermione was dressed in a very pretty, lacy gown, and held a scepter like a queen. She'd never really played dress-up before, and told Luna so.

"Really?" Luna said. Her blue eyes widened. "My mum and I... we used to play all the time. Sometimes even Daddy would play the king or the knight or the cow-wizard; it was always a great deal of fun. Didn't your parents play with you?"

"Well... no," Hermione admitted. "My mother bought me dolls every year for Christmas and my birthday, but I wasn't to play with them. They were porcelain, you know, and ever so expensive. They're in a cabinet, actually. They're all still in their boxes."

"That's just about the saddest thing I've ever heard," Neville said cheerfully. "What's the fun in getting presents if you can't play with them?"

Hermione shrugged, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "My parents... they were a little older when they had me. I don't think they expected me, actually. And they've both got very demanding careers - they're both dentists - and they always sort of expected me to be... like them. Frankly, I don't know how they reacted to me being a witch. We got the letter, and Professor Flitwick explained everything... they didn't say anything until the next day, and that was only to tell me that I ought to prepare myself for school."

Neville looked a little confused. "Prepare yourself how? Your parents are Muggles, and you're not to do magic--"

"We went to Diagon Alley to get my school things, and they told me that I should prepare myself for first year... they recommended memorizing the texts, actually," Hermione said in a rush. "And I'm ever so glad that I did."

"You're the best in our year," Neville said simply. "Though I think it has more to do with your natural talent than your ability to memorize. Me... I'm barely even a wizard."

"Don't say that, Neville," Hermione said fiercely. "You're the one who won us the House Cup last year."

"Only because you put the Body-Bind Curse on me," Neville said. He could have been bitter, but he was grinning instead. "You could have told me it was You-Know-Who that you were going after."

"Next time," Hermione promised.

Neville tipped his head back and sighed. He stared at the other three, who were laughing like mad and chasing each other underneath the ceiling. Ron and Ginny were attempting to catch Harry, but he was flying circles around them. "They're all so athletic," he said a little forlornly.

"You have other talents, Neville," Luna said.

"You could lure them down," Hermione pointed out. It occurred to her that Neville was feeling a little left out with Ron and Harry playing in the air where he was so distinctly uncomfortable. "Is there something that boys like to play on the ground?"

"I suppose... I suppose I could build a fort," Neville said, looking around.

"There's lots of stuff to throw at each other," Luna said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Boys_.

XxxxxxX

Neville strode away from the girls and looked around for the very best spot for a fort. Truth be told, pretty much every square inch of this place Harry had instinctively known was here would be ideal for an encampment. But he wanted it to be perfect, so he waited until he saw a wardrobe lying on one side directly in front of a small cave that had been hollowed out in the piles of junk.

He hastily threw together a place where one of them could go on the offensive, and then yelled, "Harry! Ron! I've built a fort... let's play war!"

He felt an immense sense of relief when Harry joined him not a minute later. "Ron's coming," he said. "He left Ginny with the girls again."

Ron pounded up, grinning, and then stopped abruptly. "Nice fortifications, Neville," he said.

Neville beamed. Harry looked a little bewildered, as if he did not really know how to play. He suspected that Harry had not had much in the way of friends when he was younger. Truth be told... they were a bit old for this, but it was fun anyway. Neville could pretend that he was six years old, and his cousins had actually liked him enough to allow him to play with them. Except that Harry and Ron were so much cooler than his cousins...

"Suppose it'll be two on one," Ron said. He smiled at the both of them. "I think it would be too unfair if I was on someone's team... neither one of you seem to know much about warfare, and I learned - painfully - from the twins."

Neville was grateful. He had expected that Harry and Ron would team up, and Neville would be decimated within seconds. Harry looked uncertain for a moment, but then he smiled. "What do we do?" he asked.

"Throw things at each other," Ron and Neville said at the same time.

"Spells?" Harry asked.

"Nothing that can damage," Neville said. "Though... I'm not sure you should, Harry. You're better than us."

"Enough talk," Ron said. He positioned himself behind the overturned sofa with the blooming flower print. One by one, he began gathering up items for ammunition. Neville immediately copied him and Harry, after a moment's pause, did as well until there was quite a pile of items at their feet behind the wardrobe.

What happened next could only be described as one of the most fun experiences of Neville's life. Ron was a worthy opponent, and though he ducked too quickly, Neville almost pelted him with a candle.

"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!" Ron shouted, as he hopped up onto the sofa and did a little jig. He was making himself a target, but Harry and Neville were laughing too hard to throw anything, not even when several books flew at them.

"How do we know who wins?" Harry asked, once they paused to restock their ammunition.

"Whoever has the least amount of bruises," Neville shrugged.

Harry turned, ready to throw, when one of the girls screamed. Harry's head immediately swiveled around, and Neville knew that it must be Ginny.

"Ginny," Harry breathed. He leapt up and maneuvered around the fortifications.

"Ginny," Ron said in quite a different voice. "I'm sure she's fine, Harry, let's keep playing!"

But Harry didn't answer, and when Ginny screamed again, Neville followed, not sparing Ron a second glance.

XxxxxxX

"Let's explore a little!" Ginny said brightly. She picked up the hem of her dress, straightened her back, and lifted her chin, as she thought a real princess might. Luna and Hermione, who had apparently become the very best of friends in her absence, followed readily in line. Luna, who had found a pair of very high heels, wobbled drunkenly as they wandered the towering stacks of abandoned things.

"Of course, your highness," Hermione said tentatively. Ginny got the feeling that she hadn't played very much as a child. Her husband had truly had a most wonderful idea - but most of his ideas were wonderful. Like Quidditch, and giving her the ring before he left.

Luna giggled. "Lady Luna thinks that exploring is a great idea!"

A particularly loud shout and a whoop of exhilaration from Ron met them as they rounded a corner. "The Duchess of Granger," Hermione said dryly, "thinks that we should stay as far away as possible from the warring king, lord, and duke."

There was a loud bang and an explosion of sparks. Ginny shook her head. _Boys and their games_, she thought, as all three boys laughed loudly. "Princess Ginny thinks that is a most excellent idea."

"Oooh!" Hermione said, pointing. "Look, Princess Ginny! A tiara!"

"Perfect," Luna said. She made a ballerina move and gracefully detached an old, worn out tiara from a pile of junk. She held glanced at it, then held it out Ginny grinned and reached out--

And screamed in pain when her hands came into contact with the tiara. It burned and _burned_ like she'd stuck her hands on hot coals. It seemed to last for an eternity, and all she could do was stare down in horror as her flesh blistered, and the tiara adhered to her skin. Then, just when the pain was almost too much to bear, the tiara was pulled forcibly out of her hands and flung away; she watched it land on a stack and tumble out of sight.

She held out her palms, and wailed again. "It hurts," she whimpered. She tucked her hands under her armpits. "It hurts."

"GINNY!" Harry shouted. He skidded to a halt, Neville right behind him. He looked horrified and furious. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Hermione said immediately. "She touched a tiara - Luna handed it to her - and it just started burning her. Then Luna threw it away," she pointed. "It fell over there."

The dark look on Harry's face told Ginny that he wanted to kill the object for hurting her. "It's getting better," she said in a wobbly voice. She hated how weak she sounded. The pain had lessened, but it was still intense.

"Let me see," Harry said in a gentle voice. Ginny held out her hands. He frowned at it. "I wish I knew healing spells," he said vaguely. "It seems like something I should know, doesn't it? I wish you hadn't thrown that tiara, Luna... I'd like to smash it."

"If it's any consolation, Ginny did as much damage to it as it did to her," Hermione said. "I saw it... it had started to melt where she was touching it."

"Good," Harry said.

Ron ambled around the corner. "What's happened?" he asked. He sounded and looked very annoyed, and Ginny felt a little hurt. What happened to the Ron she used to know? She remembered how she'd once fallen and scraped her knee, and he'd scooped her up and run with her all the way back to the Burrow. _What's happened to him?_

She held out her hands to him. "I got burned," she said.

He didn't even look. "Probably just you being stupid again," he said. "Couldn't you have - I don't know - not managed to get yourself hurt? We were having fun!"

"Ron!" Hermione said in a shocked voice. "Could you be any more selfish?"

"Don't talk to Ginny like that," Harry's brows slammed together.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry," he said in a very sarcastic voice. "I forgot that she's your _wife_ –" he made it sound like a dirty word "-- now. But she's still my sister."

"Shut up," Ginny said. She just wanted to get to Madam Pomfrey, and she did not want this to lead to an explosion between her brother and her husband. "Can we - can we just go to Madam Pomfrey now?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He stopped glaring at Ron, and put his arm around her shoulder. "I'm going to help you change," he said. "Everyone clear out, Ginny's got to get her school robes back on..."

Luna and Hermione led them back to where they had left their robes, and Harry pulled her around a stack, peeled off her gown, and very, very carefully put her robes back on. "I don't know what happened," she whispered. "The tiara - it didn't hurt Luna at all."

"She had gloves on," Harry said grimly. "Maybe that was it."

Ginny choked on a sob. Harry's head immediately popped up in alarm.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said. "I just - I don't understand what's happened to Ron."

"Me either," Harry said, troubled. "He just isn't himself..."

"Let's go," she sighed.

They went back to the others. Harry kept his hand tucked under her elbow, and she held her hands palm up. They were blackened and cracked something awful, and her face streamed with tears. It had hurt more than anything, and she didn't know why...

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked.

"He left," Hermione said. She looked really uncomfortable.

Ginny stared at her for a minute, but the older girl wouldn't meet her eyes. She sighed. She didn't really want to know what Ron had said. She just wanted to get to the hospital wing.

She cried all the way there, hating herself for acting like such a baby, but she couldn't help it. Harry looked extremely angry about something, but whenever he looked at her, his green eyes were very gentle. It helped ease the pain a little, knowing how much he loved her. Her burned hands didn't feel quite so painful.

Madam Pomfrey clucked over her, but did not ask too many questions. She seemed to take it in stride that they honestly did not know what had happened. And it was, apparently, a normal burn. Ginny closed her eyes when the sight of her flesh mending was too much and her stomach rolled. Harry stroked her back, and Ginny was able to keep her dinner down. It took a while, but the pain faded.

"That was interesting," Luna said. "I've never seen that happen before."

Ginny gave a watery chuckle. "I hope I never have to see it again."

"Not if I can help it," Harry said intensely.

Madam Pomfrey kept her a few minutes longer. By the time they left, Ginny was feeling rather sleepy and she leaned up against Harry's shoulder rather more than usual until he was doing most of the walking for them. _Another rather nice benefit to marriage_, Ginny thought dozily. She blinked at the small form lying in the corridor ahead of them, wondering why it looked so funny. It was... something surrounded by a dark liquid--

"Merlin!" Neville shouted. He stopped in his tracks and stared down at it.

"Is that - is that - is that..." Hermione stammered. Luna looked ill.

"I didn't think this would happen," Harry said in a bewildered voice, quiet enough that only Ginny heard him.

"I didn't either," she said.

Ginny started to breathe heavily, and she was once again afraid of vomiting up her dinner. Mrs. Norris - what was left of her - was lying in a pool of her own blood. She'd been torn apart, literally, as if she'd been set upon by a wild beast.


	10. Reactions

**A/N: This is the last revision of this chapter, I promise. I'm starting the new Chapter tonight and will have it up shortly.**

**I'd like to thank everyone for their kind wishes for my recovery. I've reached a point where I can sit up now for almost two hours without feeling the need to scream until I die. I'm walking again (with the aid of a walker), and will be getting the cast taken off my left wrist within the next week (that should make writing easier as well). And on the bright side, the woman who ran into us has excellent insurance, so I'm not paying for anything… not even the new car I'll be getting once I'm fully on my feet again.**

**To the one person who asked: no, I was not alone in the car. My seven year old son Jared was in the back seat. He was a little shaken up, but otherwise came out of the accident without any significant injury.**

**Chapter 10: **_**Reactions**_

"What in the hell happened here?" Harry's voice caught in his throat as he stared at the pile of bloody fur and bones that had once been Filch's cat. He couldn't seem to wrap his thoughts around what he was seeing. Certainly he, and probably every other student in Hogwarts, had daydreamed about doing something nasty to Mrs. Norris, but this was entirely different. If this was a joke, it had gone way, way too far.

"We should go," Neville said. Harry glanced at his friend, who wasn't looking at the torn body of the cat at all. Rather, Neville was nervously glancing up and down the hallway. "We really don't want to be here right now. If someone… if Filch finds us…"

"But we have to report this!" Hermione exclaimed. "This is… it's… how could someone do this?" The older girl stepped away from Ginny and waved her hands at the scene. "We have to tell the Headmaster, or Professor McGonagall!"

Luna's soft voice caught everyone's attention. "We should tell someone… but could we tell someone after Ginny's in bed?" Neville, Hermione, and Harry all turned to see Ginny leaning precariously on Luna's shoulder. It was clear that Luna, being smaller and more slightly built than even Ginny, was having trouble supporting the weight.

Exhausted from her experience, Ginny was in imminent danger of falling. Harry rushed to her and slipped an arm around his wife's waist. "Good idea, Luna." The relief showed on both younger girls' faces. Harry continued, "Even better… Luna and I will put Ginny to bed. Neville, you and Hermione go to the Headmaster's office and let him know what we've found."

"Madame Pomfrey should have kept Ginny overnight… what was she thinking?" Neville said. He looked toward Hermione and blushed, but nodded. Hermione glanced quickly at Luna, then back at Neville. "You can't get her up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, Harry. How will you…?"

"We'll manage," Luna interrupted. "Don't worry." She smiled at Hermione, a twinkle in her eye, and it was Hermione's turn to blush. The older girl returned the smile shyly as she turned and disappeared down the corridor after Neville.

Luna turned back to Ginny and Harry. "Let's get her to bed, Harry. She's asleep on her feet."

"No, I'm okay…" Ginny said in blurry tones.

"Ginny, don't be brave. Let's just get you to bed." Harry took one side and Luna the other. They didn't so much carry her as merely gave her someone to lean on when she needed it. Guiding her, it took nearly ten minutes to get to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry helped Ginny crawl out of the portrait hole and turned in time to literally run into Percy Weasley. As Harry lay on the stone floor of the common room, the older boy glared down. "What is wrong with Ginny? What have you three been up to? Where is Ron? And where are the other two members of your little 'gang'?"

"Hello, Percy… how are you?" Harry said with a note of derision in his voice. He held a hand up to his brother-in-law for a moment, looking for help up, but when Percy ignored the hand Harry climbed to his feet. "We're helping Ginny up to bed. She got burned by something earlier and we had to take her to see Madame Pomfrey. That's what's wrong, and what we've been up to. I don't have a clue where Ron got off to… he left us hours ago. Hermione and Neville…"

"She was burned? Harry, what were you doing that she could have been burned?" Percy normally shrill voice was getting shriller.

"Percy, I'll tell you everything the moment the Headmaster arrives, which he should be doing shortly. In the mean-time, I'm going to take Ginny up and put her in bed. That's much more important than feeding your pompous attitude." Harry turned back to his wife and, with Luna's help, walked Ginny up the stairs to the girl's dorm.

Percy glared at Harry's back for a long moment. How dare a second year speak to a sixth year… a sixth year _**prefect**_ no less… in such a dismissive attitude! Professor McGonagall would be hearing of this. Oh yes, she absolutely would be hearing of this. Percy stewed for a few moments longer before something intruded on his conscious thoughts: the stairs to the girl's dormitory did not flatten into a slide. The alarms did not go off, and the entire tower was not awakened to the racket those alarms normally made. Harry Potter had just blithely walked up the stairs into forbidden territory, and absolutely nothing had happened.

Outraged and confused, Percy almost yelled, "Potter! How did you deactivate the alarm!" He ran up the first four steps to the girl's dorm, only to abruptly slide down as they changed into a ramp beneath him. He fell face-first onto the ramp, biting nearly through his lower lip, and slid down to the common room floor. Heads popped out of doors everywhere as the sound of the alarm reverberated throughout the tower.

XxxxxxX

Neville Longbottom was gasping. The air was coming in small cupfuls, but his lungs were demanding quarts and gallons. Hermione had stopped them in front of a large, impressive-looking gargoyle, and Neville took advantage of it. He leaned a hand on it and bent at the waist, trying to get his breath under control.

"Are you all right, Neville?" Hermione was breathing heavy as well, but wasn't gasping. Not quite, anyway.

The boy nodded. "I just…" breathe in breathe out "… need to…" breathe in breathe out "… catch my…" breathe in breathe out… "breath." Neville nodded to himself. "I don't usually…" breathe in breathe out "… run that far." He stood up straight and took one final deep breath. "Or at all… I really need to lose some weight."

"Yes." Hermione nodded vaguely, catching her own breath, before turning her attention fully to Neville. "Sorry, what? Lose weight? Neville, you're not fat. You're just…"

"I'm on the chunky side, Hermione. I know how tubby I am." The boy's eyes never left the floor.

Hermione grabbed his arm unexpectedly and he looked up into her eyes. "You're so hard on yourself. Rather off-putting, if I do say so myself." She turned back to the gargoyle. "Have any idea how to get this thing to open?"

Neville started to reply in the negative when the gargoyle spun in place, revealing the staircase behind it. Upon the bottom stair stood the Headmaster himself. The old man looked from one student to the other and smiled primly. "Miss Granger, Mister Longbottom… I assume by your presence here just outside my office that you wish to speak to me about something, yes? How may I be of assistance to two of Gryffindor's finest?"

"Headmaster!" Hermione gasped. "We found something horrible! Please come!"

"Something horrible, Miss Granger?" The headmaster swept out of his staircase. The smile that had graced his visage when first saw the pair dimmed somewhat. "By all means, show me." Neville and Hermione nodded and turned back down the corridor. As Dumbledore followed, he asked, "Have you informed Professor McGonagall about the situation? She is your Head of House, after all, and thus should naturally be the first person you contact."

It wasn't quite an admonishment, but Hermione cringed anyway. "Sorry about that, Professor. Harry thought…"

"Ah… of course Mister Potter is involved in this," the headmaster muttered to himself. "Do go on, my dear."

"Yes, sir… but if we should have gone to Professor McGonagall first..."

"That's neither here nor there, Miss Granger. What's done is done. In fact… Mister Longbottom, while I accompany Miss Granger to the site of this horrible would you be so kind as to go and fetch Professor McGonagall to wherever it is we are going? Thank you."

As Neville sped away toward the Deputy Headmistress's quarters, Hermione resumed speaking. "It's Mrs. Norris, professor… something horrible has happened to Mr. Filch's cat! Someone killed Mr. Filch's cat… b-but worse than that, sir… she's been torn apart! It's almost like she's been in a fight with some larger animal, sir! There's blood everywhere!"

Dumbledore's face grew positively grim. "I see. Did you witness this?"

"No sir… we… that is, my friends and I… Ginny, Harry, Luna, Neville, and Ron… we didn't see it happen… we were just coming from the Hospital Wing, you see…" Hermione looked sheepish.

"The Hospital Wing? Why were you in the Hospital Wing, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore glanced at the girl as they walked, and found her blushing in embarrassment.

"Ginny Weas – I mean Ginny Potter – she got hurt, sir. Burned. We… Neville and I and a few of our friends were… well, we were playing, sir. In a large room containing many, many objects just scattered about." Hermione began to stammer slightly. She was still slightly out of breath, was nervous from speaking directly to the Headmaster (something she had never had occasion to do before this), and from his potential reaction to their possibly being somewhere forbidden.

Dumbledore understood immediately. "Miss Granger, it's all right, calm down. Nothing you say to me now will get you or your friends in trouble, I assure you. I'm willing to overlook the occasional broken rule in the interests of the school. So please, do continue your story."

"We were in a huge room that Harry had found, Professor. It was filled, wall-to-wall, with all sorts of… stuff! All of it was old, and most of it looked abandoned or forgotten. Some of it was broken. There were old suits of armor, and wardrobes, and chests filled with all sorts of books, and Ron found a flying carpet! And we… the girls, I mean… myself, Ginny, and Luna… we found all sorts of old dresses and gloves and shoes… we were playing dress up like we were all knights and ladies in a castle… I was the Duchess of Granger… We were all dressed up and playing pretend… I guess it sounds sort of childish… but we were having fun, Professor…"

"That would explain your present dress, I suppose." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Hermione blanched as she realized she was still dressed in the fine gown. "Now, Miss Granger… there is absolutely nothing wrong with children playing games and having fun, Miss Granger. It's a skill I like to think I have not yet lost, now that I am settled into old age. But please continue… I enthusiastically await the climax of this interesting if rambling tale…"

Hermione nodded, thinking. "Sorry, Professor… I suppose we have been getting to the point from the roundabout way. While we were playing dress-up, we came across a crown. When Ginny went to put it on, it burned her hands… seriously… her skin was blackened and was cracking open. So we took Ginny to see Madame Pomfrey healed Ginny. We came across poor Mrs. Norris after we left the Hospital Wing."

"Do you think… after we investigate the death of Mr. Filch's cat… that you can show me the object in question, Miss Granger?" The twinkle had faded from Dumbledore's eyes. "I think it behooves us to go and examine an object that can burn the hands that hold it. But first, let us attend to Mrs. Norris."

XxxxxxX

Minerva McGonagall angrily swept into the Gryffindor common room. It didn't happen often, but every so often, some boy thought he could outwit the alarms the Founders had placed on the stairs to the girls' dorms. She ran the male Gryffindors most likely to attempt to try such a stunt and came up with only a handful of faces. Armbruster, fifth year, MacLeggan, third year, and Finnigan, second year, were all at the top of the list.

"Ah, good… Mr. Weasley," she said, immediately spotting Percy standing by the stairway. "I got the notice the stairway alarm had been tripped. Have you identified which boy it was? And did it happen accidentally, or did the young man in question have a more questionable motive in mind?" McGonagall folded her hands in front of her and waited for the answer.

Percy was silent for a moment, as if composing himself. "Professor, I am afraid I must apologize," Percy said. "I was the person who tripped the alarm, though I assure you I did it quite by accident." He rubbed at his lip, which was still raw and red from the bite. "However, you should know that before I did so, Harry Potter walked up the girls' stairs without so much as a fair-thee-well and the alarm didn't even chirp at him." Percy waved at the stairs. "It was only after I made to follow him… to bring him back down, of course… that the staircase flattened and the alarm sounded. I nearly bit through my lip when I landed…"

"I see. Where is Mr. Potter now?"

Percy nodded toward the stairs. "Still up there, Professor. He and that Lovegood girl were carrying my sister up the stairs. I told him not to, but he didn't listen to me, ma'am."

"You mean, he's… how long has he been up there?" McGonagall started toward the stairs.

"It has to have been five or six minutes, Professor. Since just before the alarm sounded. He'll be in the First Year dorm, ma'am." Percy stood a bit straighter, as if he was about to pronounce a sentence of doom. "Potter really should learn to respect the prefects in this school."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley… I'll keep it in mind." She nodded to the boy and began to climb the stairs.

XxxxxxX

As she and Professor Dumbledore approached, Hermione eyed the crowd. It was obvious that some student or other had found the remains of Mrs. Norris and word had spread. The students were in a ring, and most of them were gawking at something on the corridor floor. She knew, of course, what it was they were gawking at… it was the car-wreck phenomenon on small scale: something horrific had happened, so obviously everyone wanted to get a good view.

On the periphery of the crowd, one of the older boys noticed their approach. Hermione couldn't remember his name… she wasn't sure she had ever heard it… but she did remember he was one of the Ravenclaw prefects. The boy's eyes widened at the Headmaster's approach, and he called out "All right, everyone… it's the Headmaster… make way there! Let him through, you lot!"

Dumbledore nodded to the boy. "Thank you, Mister Francis… if you could have the children step back out of the way, please? And if you could please send someone to fetch Professors Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick, I'd greatly appreciate it. Miss Granger, if you wouldn't mind…" The headmaster stepped through the crowd, his hand gently on Hermione's shoulder. He guided her into the center of the gawking children until his own view was unobscured.

"Oh my." Dumbledore gasped. He seemed to study the cat's bloody carcass for a moment, then turned to Hermione, who (confronted with the bloody scene), was doing her utmost not to vomit. "Miss Granger, if you would please… which direction were you and your friends coming when you came across poor Mrs. Norris?

Hermione nodded. She took a deep breath and began, "We were coming from that direction, Professor… from the Hospital Wing. We'd just rounded the corner there when Neville shouted. He spotted Mrs. Norris first. The rest of us were talking… I can't really remember about what, and Neville just stopped and shouted." Her face screwed up into a pinch for a moment. "Harry and Ginny both said something about not expecting this to happen. I didn't think of it until now, but that's slightly odd, isn't it?"

Dumbledore merely nodded, encouragingly. "That's when Harry sent Neville and me to get you. He was taking Ginny back to Gryffindor tower before she fell over in exhaustion."

"I see. Did Harry say whether or not he was coming back?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione just shook her head. "I think he was more worried about Ginny than Mrs. Norris, sir."

"Well… that fits." Dumbledore muttered.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't hear you?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing… nothing… I apologize, Miss Granger. Just muttering to myself." The headmaster removed his wand from his sleeve and waved it carefully around the dead cat's body. Instantly, the worst of the blood vanished... but a blackish grey liquid was left behind "Hurm…" Dumbledore said. It was obvious to Hermione that the professor was thinking about something. She had no idea what the liquid was, but noted a slight change in Dumbledore's demeanor.

The headmaster looked around again at the crowd. "I understand everyone is curious, and therefore it would be useless to order you all back to your houses… but if everyone could please step back a bit farther, I would appreciate it." His tone was gentle, but it was obvious to the gathered students that he was not to be disobeyed.

She watched as he once again waved his wand over the cat. It promptly rose a few inches in the air and began rotating, slowly. Hermione glanced at the other students… their reactions to the cat, now that it was levitating, was varied. Some actually leaned in to get a better look, while others were being audibly sick farther down the hallway.

She took her first good look at the miniature corpse. It was obvious to Hermione that the cat wasn't hole: the back legs were missing, as was the lower end of one of the front legs. There didn't seem to be enough… she swallowed hard… enough guts left… as if they were removed somehow. And the wounds were jagged… not like knife wounds, or the cuts caused by a slicing curse. Rather, the wounds looked for all the world like teeth marks… big ones.

She realized that thinking in clinical terms helped her get over the nausea at seeing the poor animal in such a bloody state.

Professor Dumbledore had finished his own examination and lowered Mrs. Norris back to the floor. He stood silent, thinking for a long while, before glancing toward Hermione. He stared at the girl for a long moment before thinking. "So, Miss Granger… what would your conclusions be?"

His question shocked her out of her revery. "Sir? I'm… sorry, sir… I was just…"

"Quite all right. You're a normal human being, Miss Granger. That means that, like most of us, you have the one innate quality that separates us from lesser beings: a quick and powerful brain powered no less by curiosity than anything else. What have you noticed? Perhaps I've missed something."

"Oh, well… um… I think Mrs. Norris was killed by an animal of some type… and from the size of the bite, I'd say it was big." Hermione frowned suddenly before speaking. "But if it was that big, how'd it get into the castle?"

"A very good question, young lady." Dumbledore turned. "I do wonder…"

"You sent for us, Headmaster? You, make way!" Professor Snape stepped between two students, who shied away as if set on fire. "You students… back away and allow us to approach!" Whereas Dumbledore's earlier request had merely made the ring wider, Snape's presence made everyone step back a meter or more. He truly was the most hated and feared man at Hogwarts. "What has happened now… oh. Well…"

Next to him, Professor Flitwick let out a high-pitched squeak. "Oh my… is… is that Mrs. Norris?"

"Yes, Filius, it is. I wish to wait until Professors Sprout and McGonagall are here before going to deeply into this… but obviously the poor beast was the victim of foul play."

Flitwick merely nodded. "Headmaster, if I may… has anyone located Mr. Filch and told him about his pet?"

XxxxxxX

Professor McGonagall pushed open the door to the First Year Girl's Dorm. Her eyes immediately fell upon Harry Potter; the boy was sitting on an end-table, taking in soft, low tones to the Weasley girl. _No… she's now the Potter girl. I have to remember that._ She watched as Harry leaned forward touch her face, gently. Just past the pair, the Lovegood girl was sitting at a dressing table brushing her hair.

McGonagall took a moment to curiously study the impressive-looking gowns… one pale blue, the other green… hanging from Lovegood's bed before turning back to Potter. "Mister Potter, what do you have to say for yourself? I'm sure you are aware that the girl's dorms are off-limits to boys." She waited a moment. "Well?"

Harry shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "Ginny got hurt, Professor. Madame Pomfrey told her to get some rest. I helped Luna get Ginny to her bed, that's all."

McGonagall nodded, but her tone didn't change. "Mister Potter, your intentions are all well and good but you've broken a rather important rule, willingly. This will cost Gryffindor fifty points, and you'll serve a week of detentions with Mister Filch."

"Professor, I hope you can please excuse the interruption, but does the rule still apply to married students who are in a room together, with or without a third party present?" Luna asked.

McGonagall blinked for a moment, thinking. "Miss Lovegood, this matter doesn't involve you, so please be still. But to answer your question, there are no provisions in Hogwarts rules for married students. Thus, they must follow the same rules as everyone else."

Luna returned the professor"But Professor… I am involved in this. If Harry violated a rule, it was with my help. I helped Harry carry Ginny up the stairs."

McGonagall thought for a moment. "Very well, Miss Lovegood. Fifty more points from Gryffindor, and you too will serve a week with Mister Filch. Now… how did Miss Weasley get injured?"

"Potter. She's not Miss Weasley, professor, she's Mrs. Potter, remember?" Harry said. He leaned forward and ran his hand through Ginny's hair. "And I mean no disrespect, but can we move this downstairs? She's asleep, and Madame Pomfrey says she needs her rest."

"Mrs. Potter, yes. My apologies." The professor nodded and led the two students down into the Common Room. She was a bit chagrined to find a small crowd was awaiting them. McGonagall looked around at the students, her face grim. It didn't seem to her to be a gathering of nosy-parkers… just the usual common room crowd on a Tuesday night. "Mister Weasley," she called to Percy, "I require the room."

Percy nodded. "All right, you lot… you heard the Deputy Headmistress. Clear out. Find somewhere else to be." He roamed the large room, giving nudges here and there to the slower students. They headed up the stairs to the dorms, or out the portrait hole to the hallways.

When the last was gone, he took up position at the hole and waited. McGonagall stared at him for a moment, and he politely stared back. She cleared her throat, then did it again. Finally, she spoke up. "Mister Weasley, you too. Out you go."

The boy looked shocked, but complied. "I'll be right outside if you need me, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall turned to Harry and Luna. "Now, you were saying?"

"We were playing around with some old junk we found up on the seventh floor. It seemed harmless enough. The girls were getting all dressed up in some clothes they found, while Neville and Ron and I bogged around. Ginny picked up this… this crown, or tiara, or whatever you'd call it… and it hurt her. It burned her fingers down almost to the bone. Madame Pomfrey healed the burns and suggested she go rest in her bed for the night."

"I see… and in all this did you think to tell someone that you'd found a dangerous object on school grounds?"

"Hermione and Neville were going to the Headmaster, Professor," Luna interjected. "We… Harry and myself, that is… felt it important to get Ginny back here."

"I see." McGonagall took a deep breath. "Mister Potter, while I admire your devotion to your… ahem…. Bride… you simply must remember the rules. They are there for a reason and they apply to you as well as everyone else. Now… since your reasons were basically sound, I will return the fifty points I took from Miss Lovegood, and reduce your own penalty to twenty-five. But I don't want it happening again."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Something that had been floating in the back of Minerva McGonagall's mind came to fore. "Mister Potter… another question. Just what did you do to negate the alarms on the stairs? The alarms that prevent male students from climbing into the girl's dorms?"

"Nothing, professor… I didn't do anything…"

"Are you sure?" McGonagall gave him the full stare, but the boy just nodded.

"All I did was walk up them, ma'am." Harry swallowed deeply. "I promise."

"Hmmph. Well… let me see, then. Just two steps."

"What? I mean, what do you mean, ma'am?" Harry glanced at Luna, then back at his Head of House.

"I mean, climb the first two steps for me, Mister Potter." McGonagall waved toward the forbidden stairway. Harry stared for a moment, then shrugged. He stepped toward the stairs, hopped the first one, and stood there on the second.

No alarm sounded. There was, in fact, no reaction at all.

"All right, Mister Potter, come down please." She stepped to the portrait hole and opened it. "Mister Weasley, come in please." The professor stepped back to the middle of the room and turned to find herself confronted with two Weasleys, Ron and Percy. Percy looked perturbed at his younger brother, while Ron just stood there, eating something.

"Mister Weasley… Ronald, I mean… please head up to your dorm. Percy, please climb the first two steps of the girls dorm stairs for me. I'm trying to make sure they still function."

The older boy did so, but no sooner had he placed the first step on the stairway then the caterwauling of the alarm caused everyone in the room to flinch. The stairs flattened into a ramp, and Percy almost tripped onto his face.

"Well… I suppose that means they are working. Though why they aren't working for you, Mister Potter, is something of a mystery."

Harry started to speak, but was interrupted by the portrait opening. Neville Longbottom, out of breath and looking somewhat peaked, came stumbling in. "Prof… Professor McGonagall… Headmaster needs… pfreww… needs to speak to you, ma'am. He's… he's at the girl's lav… on the second floor… the one that's always out… out of order."

McGonagall nodded. "Thank you, Mister Longbottom." She turned to the other occupants of the room. "Mister Potter, you're free to spend the rest of the evening as you like. Your detentions will start tomorrow night. You too, Miss Lovegood. Mister Weasley, thank you for your assistance." With that, she left the Common Room.

Harry and Luna both headed for the stairs, only to be brought back by Percy's call. "No you don't… I want to hear about everything that went on tonight. I want to know how my baby sister got hurt. And I want to hear about it right now…"

XxxxxxX

Dumbledore looked up as Snape returned. The Potions Master seemed more peeved than usual. "Headmaster, the man isn't in his office, and none of the portraits report having seen him within the last hour. Is it possible that Filch has left the castle for some reason?"

"I've sent for Hagrid, and the Gamekeeper's Hut is the only place outside the castle I would think Argus would go." Dumbledore sighed. He turned to the nearest portrait. With the voice of command, he said "Pass the word to the ghosts that I need them. Have them assemble here as quickly as possible."

The man in the portrait, dressed in the style of the English Regency period, merely nodded and left his frame. As he waited for the ghosts to assemble, Dumbledore once again considered the death of Mrs. Norris. _It is simply beyond my comprehension that a student would be so cruel as to murder the animal in such a bloody fashion, regardless of how much she was hated, _he thought to himself.

"Headmaster!" Dumbledore's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Professor Sprout. "Mister Filch is nowhere in my greenhouses. Nor did I see any signs of his being there earlier."

"Thank you, Pomona." Dumbledore shook his head, truly perplexed. He looked over at the Granger girl, but she had clearly given everything she knew to him already. He fell into a revery, still considering the facts.

"We're here, Headmaster." The voice was gravelly and sepulchral.

Dumbledore looked up into the eyes of the Bloody Baron and smiled, if a bit grimly. "Thank you for coming, Your Excellency. Are all the ghosts with you?" His eyes scanned the assembled spirits. Hogwarts, being a thousand years old, had more ghosts than anyone alive actually knew. He checked off the ones he recognized: Sir Nicholas, the Fat Friar, the Knights of the Cross (and their horses), the Gray Lady, the White Lady, Lord Gingham…

"The only one that failed to heed my call was the young one… Myrtle. But as she haunts the jakes behind you…" the ghostly Baron nodded toward the door behind Dumbledore.

"Ah, yes… thank you…" Dumbledore turned and opened the door to the lady's restroom. He'd never actually had a call to enter this room before, and though he knew intellectually that no one ever came in to use the facilities, he nonetheless felt uncomfortable.

"Er… excuse me, please. Myrtle? It's the Headmaster… I need to speak…" Dumbledore's words trailed away as he took in the scene before him. The missing Mister Filch was lying, spread eagle, in the middle of the floor. The man's eyes were wide, and his mouth was open, as if he died in the midst of a scream. For dead the man was, that much being obvious.

But it was the words that caught Dumbledore and held him. The words, written above the caretaker's body in what could only be the blood of the dead man's own cat, sent a shiver down the Headmaster's spine.

_**The Chamber Of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies Of the Heir, Beware**__**!**_


	11. The Uncontrollable Flow Of Information

**A/N: Go back and read Chapter 1. I added some important information that might interest a few of you.**

**Chapter 11: **_**The Uncontrollable Flow of Information**_

The rumors flying around the late Mr. Filch and his cat spread across the school like a wildfire. Within hours, everyone in the school had known of the man's death. Within days, everyone in the school had heard at least six different stories involving Filch's death, not to mention the mutilation of Mrs. Norris. The Weasley twins had naturally set themselves up as bookmakers, taking wagers on which of the multitudinous stories were true. So far, the favorite was that the crazed Squib had killed his own pet then drowned himself in a toilet. The only element to the man's death the staff had succeeded in keeping secret was the graffiti. No one but the professors knew of the message, and Dumbledore was going to great lengths to keep it that way. He even managed to keep knowledge of the graffiti away from the Aurors… he knew that if word got out that Filch's death was somehow connected to the legendary Chamber of Secrets, Hagrid's life wouldn't be worth a stale biscuit.

The Headmaster felt some small amount of guilt at interfering with an official investigation, but he knew with a certainty that Hagrid had nothing to do with poor Filch's demise, no more than he had something to do with the girl, Myrtle Malone. _And isn't that an interesting coincidence_, Dumbledore had thought to himself shortly after the discovery of the body. _Filch dead in the same place and in a similar manner to that poor girl_. Unfortunately, his examination of the girl's bathroom revealed nothing that had not been discovered back in 1945.

After much introspection, Dumbledore had decided to encourage life at the school to resume its normal rhythms. It would not do, after all, for the students to become panicked or overwrought based on this one tragedy.

That was a concern for another day, though. As requested, Hermione Granger had shown Dumbledore the special room… and to Dumbledore's surprise, it turned out to be a room that he, the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, had no knowledge of. Of course, he had vague memories of entering this room once, but it had been a jakes at the time, not a warehouse for lost things. It was a most curious quandary. The Headmaster had immediately set the castle's house elves to cataloging the things found in the room; he wasn't sure what he would do with most of it, though he'd already decided that, as the discoverers of the Room of Lost things, he'd let them have whatever harmless toys or gimcracks they requested. (He'd already received inquiries from Miss Lovegood regarding the various gowns they had been playing with.) Anything truly dangerous, or even potentially so, would be stored away.

And "truly dangerous" definitely applied to the item he was now studying on his desk. It seemed to be either a perfect replica of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, or else was the real thing. That, in itself, wasn't the dangerous part; somehow, it had been enchanted with dark and terrible magic. From what his spells and studying and research revealed, the Headmaster was convinced that what he was looking at was a Horcrux. Even worse, he was convinced that it was a Horcrux created by Tom Riddle, the self-styled "Lord Voldemort".

If he was correct, Dumbledore reasoned, and the diadem had been converted into a Horcrux belonging to the Dark Lord, then all of his fears regarding Lord Voldemort not truly being dead were suddenly realized. It was a chilling thought.

XxxxxxX

While the teachers and staff of Hogwarts worried how the murder of Argus Filch would impact the children, those self-same children were proving an axiom that had not yet been voiced in greater society: children are far more resilient than any adult gives credit.

News of the graffiti was successfully kept from the Aurors, but thanks to the Weasley twins and their unstoppable need to go where they weren't supposed to, the students had found out about it within the next two days. Within a week it was the talk of the school, to the point that it was disrupting classes. To the surprise of everyone in Gryffindor House, it was Hermione Granger who stood up in the middle of History of Magic and asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets.

The ghost-professor had been less than cooperative, but had managed to give the students a rather vague idea of just what the Chamber was: a secret room, or set of rooms, created by Salazar Slytherin himself. No one had actually ever confirmed its existence, though rumors regarding the Chamber being opened always surfaced from time to time. It was just enough to put Hermione on the scent.

Three days after the now-legendary History of Magic class, Hermione came into the Common Room carrying a book almost as large as she was. She pushed herself onto the sofa between Luna and Harry (who were busy with a game of Gobstones), and said, "I think I found it!"

"Found what, exactly, Hermione?" Harry carefully reached around the expansive cover of the book for his Gobstones, but couldn't quite make it. Resigned to the interruption, he gave Luna a look, and sat back when the blonde girl nodded back.

"The Chamber of Secrets, of course! I was looking in the wrong place."

"You found the Chamber? You know where the Chamber is?" Harry asked.

Luna coughed gently before speaking. "Did you find the physical location of the Chamber itself, or did you simply find more information than has been supplied by Professor Binns?"

"Oh… I found some new information. It's all here, in this book!" She showed the gold-leaf writing on the binding. It read _**SECRETS OF THE FOUNDERS: A HIDDEN HISTORY.**_ "According to this, each of the four founders of Hogwarts constructed a set of private chambers for their own use; these rooms were hidden from the rest of the castle and accessible only to the founders themselves and those friends or family members who knew the secret of how to enter them."

Hermione pointed to the spot on the page from which she was reading. "This says that when Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor each died, they left behind knowledge of how to open their secret chambers, and thus the chambers became common knowledge and are used to this day by the school. Ravenclaw's chamber, for example, is now the location of the school's library, while Hufflepuff's chamber is part of the seventh year 'Puff dorms. Now, because…"

"What about Gryffindor's chambers?" Harry interrupted her.

Hermione closed her mouth for a second. "Oh… we're sitting in them right now," she said with a shrug. "The students of Gryffindor House were once housed elsewhere."

"But Slytherin left the school before he died didn't he?" Luna asked. "He couldn't have revealed where his chambers were hidden, or how to open them."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly what I was about to say."

"Okay, so now we know what the Chamber of Secrets is, how do we find it? And what about the monster that's supposed to be living in it?" Harry asked.

"Well," Luna began. Before she could say anything else, Ginny stumbled into the room. She had an odd look on her face, and she was breathing heavy.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Harry was worried.

"Yeah, sure... I just ran from the third floor corridor. I was looking for Professor Flitwick, and was checking some of the classrooms he uses to talk privately to some of the students, you know? Well… I didn't find Flitwick, but I did find Percy… he was in the office connected to the classroom, and the door was open! You would not believe what he was doing with that Ravenclaw prefect… what's her name… Clearwankle or something. Oh my God, it was disgusting! I almost threw up in the corridor. And the noises they made…"

She pulled Harry into a light hug and whispered, "If that's what a special naked hug looks like, forget it!" Harry just nodded. If special naked hugs were so bad that they almost made Ginny throw up, he certainly wanted nothing to do with them.

Hermione was blushing, furiously. "Oh my… should we tell someone?"

"I don't want to tell anyone I saw anything like that, ever," Ginny said, firmly.

"But he's a prefect! He shouldn't be… you know… doing _**that**_ in school! Especially not where just anyone can walk in!"

Luna, however, was more forgiving. "Come now, Hermione… it's really not our business who Percy Weasley is having relations with. And being a tattle-tale is never a good thing. On the other hand, I'm sure that Ginny feels a need to scrub her brain clean of the images…"

"Look, let's change the subject. Let's talk about… what we were talking about… all right?" At everyone's nod, Harry continued. "What does 'Enemies of the Heir' mean anyway? Heir of what?"

"Heir of Slytherin, I would suspect." Luna said. "After all, if it's Slytherin's chamber, it makes sense that if someone was opening the chamber and letting the monster out to ravage the school and terrorize the student body, it would be Slytherin's heir."

The other three looked at Luna for a long while, a bit dumbfounded. Finally, Luna blinked and added, "It's just a theory."

"No, it's a good one, Luna. I think you're right… whoever is opening the Chamber of Secrets is at least claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin. You just said that so… quickly…" Hermione turned to Harry. "The way I see it, Harry, once everyone else in the school figures out what we just did… well…"

"Well what?" Harry asked.

"Harry, remember you're famous on a legendary level, right? I mean, you're not just Stubby Boardman famous or Ludo Bagman famous… you're… well… you're…" Ginny was visibly reaching for the right example.

"Harry Potter famous?" Luna suggested.

"Yeah, Harry Potter famous. Everyone knows about you, or thinks they do. Something like this, happening so close to you? It's inevitable that sooner or later people are going to start talking about you as if you were the Heir himself." Ginny finished.

"But that's ridiculous! It's stupid! It's ridiculously stupid!" Harry gasped. He glanced around the Common Room, suddenly aware of how many people, regardless of what they were doing, kept occasionally glancing his way.

"We know Harry. It's ridiculous to even consider that you might be the Heir of Slytherin. But still, people will think that. Don't worry… we'll be there for you." Luna smiled at him and patted his hand.

He really didn't know how to respond to that.

"You know who I think is most likely to be the Heir of Slytherin?" Ginny asked.

"How many guesses do I get?" Hermione asked in return, grinning.

"Well, I'll give you three, but you're only going to need one."

"Malfoy?" Hermione's grin expanded at Ginny's nod.

Luna looked skeptical. "He does seem to have the right attitude and he's certainly well-practiced at 'creepy', but doesn't he strike you as being just a bit too obvious?" The others looked at her, curiously, and waved her to go on. "I mean… it's almost like some invisible writer has made him so slimy and evil that, anytime anything happens, our first suspicion will be toward Malfoy. He's too convenient, isn't he?"

They thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, he is a bit obvious. And I learned that lesson first year, with Professor Greasy-Git. We all thought he was trying to steal the stone, when it was Quirrell all the time. Greasy-Git's certified evil, but he's still trying to make up for betraying my mother…"

"What was that about your mother?" Hermione asked. Her eyes wide and fearful.

"What?" Harry looked back at Hermione in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Professor Snape betrayed your mother?" Hermione asked.

Harry was suddenly gloomy. "Yeah, he did. That's why I hate him, even if he's been trying to make up for it ever since."

"Does Professor Dumbledore know this?" Hermione's eyes were wide.

"Yeah, he does. He keeps insisting Snape's on our side now, but me… I think he's just on his side." Harry was silent for a moment. "But he really, truly loved my mother. And for that… because of that… I can forgive him a little, for the rest of things. I don't like him, and I don't trust him not to hurt me. But I do trust him not to sell me out to Voldemort." Harry smiled at the fact that none of the girls jumped at the mention of the name.

They were all quiet for a long while. Then Luna spoke again. "So we'll keep an eye on Malfoy, but we won't let doing so blind us to other possibilities."

Everyone nodded. "I'll tell Neville and Ron when I see them." Harry said.

Luna looked around the Common Room before asking, "Where are they, anyway?"

"Ron has a detention with McGonagall. I'm not sure where Neville is." Ginny said.

"Neville's with Professor Sprout," Hermione answered without thinking. She then blushed under their collective gaze.

XxxxxxX

While he had basically agreed with suggestions made by Harry Potter regarding reserve players, Oliver Wood knew that if he had restricted the try-out to just those people Harry suggested, or whom Harry considered friends, the questions that arose would have been embarrassed. He carefully avoided the situation by declaring an open try-out for reserve spots. Any Gryffindor who wished to could try. So on the Saturday morning, two weeks after the discovery of Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris, Wood had rounded up his team-mates and enlisted their help in running trials.

Eleven students of various years came to try-out. Some, Wood knew, were going to prove hopeless from the jump. Others might just have a chance. It would be an interesting day regardless of how things worked out.

He glanced for a moment to the stands. He hadn't expected so many spectators. Friends of the team, sure. Even the significant others, if there were any, of the prospects. But it looked as if most of Gryffindor House were watching, not to mention a goodly number from the 'claws and the 'puffs. He was, however, gratified that there was the barest handful of students sitting in the usual Slytherin sections.

With his team lined up behind him, Oliver approached the brave souls who dared to think they might be good enough to play for their House team. "All right… we're going to start with the Reserve Keeper try-outs. Who's here for Keeper?" Three hands rose. Wood recognized Ron Weasley, the twins' younger brother, immediately. It took him a moment to remember the names of the other two: McLaggan, a third year, and Longbottom, another of Potter's friends.

"Good to have you. Now, what we'll do is have you man the goals one at a time. Now, for the first round we're going to have the Chasers… that's Katie, Angelina, and Alicia there… make a go at scoring on you. We'll then do a round with the chasers doing two-on-one combinations, and finally we'll be hitting anyone not already eliminated with full-raft combinations where all three Chasers will be working together to score against you. Clear? Okay… let's have… McLaggan first, then Weasley, then Longbottom."

XxxxxxX

"Okay, you three aren't bad on a broom, and you'll no doubt get better with practice." Angelina Johnson held the slate close to her chest as she spoke. After Wood, she was the most senior of the first-string players, and the most likely to replace him as Captain when he graduated after the next year. Since Wood had taken up his Keeper position already, it was up to her to examine the prospective Chasers. "Being keen on a broom is key to being a great Chaser, but you also need fantastic timing, a good sense of the game around you, and the nerve to put yourself out there."

All four prospective Chasers nodded, hanging on her every word. She glanced up at her fellow Chasers who, like Wood, were on their brooms and in the air already. "You two ready?" she called.

Spinnet just nodded, while Bell called back a quick "Ready, Angie… send them on up."

Johnson winced at the nickname… she hated being called Angie, but couldn't break Katie from it. "All right, you four… what we want you to do is do your best to score on Oliver there." She pointed to the lines painted in the grass of the pitch. "Remember to be aware of the Shooter's line. You won't be passing, so you don't have to worry about the Passer's Line, but if you cross the Shooter's Line without taking your go at the goals, I'll mark it against you."

She was quiet for a moment as the entire team, first-stringers and prospects alike, watched Harry Potter. The team's Seeker sped across the pitch at two hundred feet. When he reached the rough center of the field, he pulled into a tight shoulder-roll and dove straight to the ground. The boy looked for the entire world like he was simply going to plow directly into the turf, but at a height of around eight feet pulled out abruptly. Harry bent into a corkscrew roll as he accelerated, burning across the remainder of the pitch in seconds. Everyone who was watching abruptly got goose-bumps.

"Yes. Well… Seeker try-outs will be held right after we get done with you lot…" Angelina said, tightly. The four prospects snapped their attention back to her. "Now… let's see Dean up first, followed by Ginny, then Demelza, and finally Seamus. Okay? Good. Mount your brooms…"

XxxxxxX

With the try-outs over the team gathered together in the highest levels of the Gryffindor stands. The prospective reserve players were still on the field, released for the moment to entertain themselves as they liked while Wood discussed their fates with his team. Naturally enough, the prospects had roughly divided into teams for a five-on-five one-goal game, with McLaggan playing Keeper for both teams.

They'd just come to their first round picks… Ginny Potter would be reserve Chaser and Seeker, and surprisingly Colin Creevey would be reserve beater; both had shown exemplary talent in those positions, enough so that the team had been pleasantly surprised… and were beginning to discuss the other positions when a noise from the field caught their attention.

"Oh no… what are they doing here?" Katie Bell asked.

As a group they rushed to the field, letting Oliver take the lead as Captain of the team. The Slytherin Quidditch team was already on the field, exchanging words with the gathered prospects. "Alicia, Katie, round up the prospects and put the brooms away. We'll continue this somewhere else. Flint!" Oliver called. "What's all this? I booked this field weeks ago so I could run trials for my…"

Marcus Flint smiled at his rival. It was the greasy, crooked smile of a crocodile approaching his prey. "Well you'll just have to reschedule, Wood. I have a note." The Slytherin captain handed the other boy a rolled-up piece of parchment.

Oliver read for a moment before speaking. "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' You have a new Seeker?" In response, and with almost vicious glee, the Slytherin team split, revealing the boy they'd been hiding.

"Malfoy?" Harry Potter seemed stunned.

"That's right, scar-head!" The blond boy smirked back at Harry's incredulous gaze. "And that's not all that's new." With a casual wave, Malfoy gestured toward the brooms each of the Slytherin were carrying.

"Nimbus 2001s," Wood said, nodding. "Good brooms."

"The latest model… a gift from Draco's father… much better than the old Comets, I'd say. And as for the Cleansweeps…" Marcus Flint's grin became even more feral as he glanced toward the Weasley twins. "Well…"

Flint's impending insult stopped unvoiced as Katie Bell tapped Wood on the shoulder. "Oliver, I need the keys to the broom shed." She was accompanied by the eleven prospects, plus Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger.

"What… what is that?" Marcus Flint gasped. He was staring at the broom Bell casually held, as if she had a poisonous snake in her arms and was thrusting it at him. "When did she get that?"

Wood looked to Bell and realized that Flint was asking about the broom. With a cruel, wry grin, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain turned back to Flint. "Oh that? Yeah… an anonymous benefactor donated an entire raft of Nimbus 2001s to the Gryffindor team… Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff got them as well."

Hermione stepped forward and smirked at Malfoy. "At least no one on any of the other teams had to buy their way in."

Draco's mouth fell open in shock, as if she had slapped him. "How dare you speak to your betters like that, you filthy little Mudblood!"

There was a shocked silence from nearly everyone around. The Gryffindors who knew the word were scandalized, while the Slytherins were mostly shocked that Draco had the bad manners to say it in public. After several second of quiet, there was a nervous chuckle.

All eyes stared at Ron Weasley for a moment before turning back to Malfoy. Ron didn't even look abashed at his outburst. For her part, Hermione Granger merely looked confused. "What does…?" she started to ask, but Angelina Johnson waved her to silence with a mouthed _Not now!_

Wood was fuming. "Shut your foul mouth, Malfoy, or..."

"Or what?" The Slytherin boy stepped into Wood's space, daring the older boy to do something. "You don't dare touch me… my father would ruin your entire Family if you so much as raise a finger…"

"So be it!" With no warning at all, Neville Longbottom stepped forward and slapped Draco Malfoy across the face with one a Quidditch glove. "You and your _puisne _Family don't impress _me_, Malfoy... What are you again? Twelfth rank? You're not fit to shine my family's shoes!" The boy raised his voice so everyone around him could hear. "I am Neville Francis Longbottom, head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom! I declare Hermione Granger under my protection, and if she is willing, her family is Sept to the Family Longbottom!" Neville turned his eyes back to Draco. "Insult her again, you insignificant bug! I dare you!"

Behind him, Fred Weasley gave Hermione a gentle nudge. She glanced at him and he whispered, _"Accept it… you have to accept it! Say something!"_

"Oh… uh… On… uh… on behalf of my parents, I… uh… Hermione Jane Granger, accept… um…"

Fred leaned in, still whispering, _"… accept the protection of the Longbottom Family… and agree to be Sept to them, for as long as my family thrives."_

Hermione smiled at him, nodding her thanks. "I accept the protection of the Longbottom family, and on my parent's behalf agree to be Sept forever."

"Witnessed and sealed!" Ginny, Fred, George, and Angelina Johnson all said simultaneously.

Malfoy sneered and began to say something, only to be clouted across the back of his head by Marcus Flint. The older boy scowled at his new Seeker until Draco relented, then turned back to the crowd of Gryffindors. "Longbottom, on behalf of my Housemate… who should know when to keep his tongue behind his teeth… allow me to extend the deepest apologies of Slytherin House to your cousin." With that he bowed to Hermione, who was still looking confused. "Such public displays of rudeness are not fitting a member of Slytherin House, much less a member of one of the Great Families."

Neville nodded. "Thank you, Flint. I, and thus all of the Longbottoms, accept the apologies of Slytherin House on the behalf of its least member." With that, the young man turned, took Hermione Granger's hand in his own, and stalked off the field.

After an embarrassing silence, Oliver Wood turned back to Marcus Flint. "Well… we yield the pitch to you, then." With a growl he turned his gaze back onto Malfoy. "You and I will meet again, boy." Draco only sneered in response.

As they were walking back into the castle, Wood put a friendly arm around Harry Potter's shoulders. "Something I wanted to discuss. Do you think our mysterious benefactor could see his way clear to supplying some new brooms for our back-up players? I'd like whoever we end up picking to begin practicing with the rest of the team…"

Harry laughed. "I think our mysterious benefactor will see what he can do…"

XxxxxxX

That night, after a quick meeting of the Gryffindor Quidditch team in a disused classroom, another, more open meeting was called to announce the results of the Quidditch try-outs. Anyone who wanted could attend to see who had made it onto the team's reserve and who hadn't. The entire House, including Professor McGonagall, had decided to attend.

Wood stood before the entire House, explaining that the decision of who made the Reserve Team was based on the good of the team and not anything personal. He then announced Demelza Robins and Dean Thomas as Reserve Chasers, Ginny Potter as Reserve Seeker, Colin Creevey as Reserve Beater, and Ron Weasley as Reserve Keeper. It was this last announcement that finally sparked comment.

"Why him?" It was McLaggan, the third year who had also tried for the Keeper spot. "He missed all the three-on-ones, and all but two of the two-on-ones! I blocked all the two-on-ones and the first three three-on-ones. How's he a better Keeper than I am?"

Oliver Wood just looked at him. "Well, for one thing, he's got a better attitude. Weasley might not be perfect, but I can tell… he's willing to work on it and doesn't think he's Merlin's Gift to Quidditch." The _unlike you _was left unspoken.

The younger boy refused to be mollified. "That's bollocks! I know what you're really about! Anyone with a lick of wits can see it."

Wood sighed, deeply. "All right… why don't you tell everyone here what I am really about? This should be very interesting and I cannot wait to hear it."

"It's all about him!" McLaggan hooked a thumb at Harry. "You put his girlfriend on the team, along with a bunch of his friends."

Oliver glanced over at Professor McGonagall, who was watching the byplay intensely. The entire House was watching carefully, in fact. "I put Ginny on the team before she flew rings around everyone else on the pitch except Harry. She's perfect Seeker material, and I think she'd do well as Chaser as well. I put the others on the team because I see potential that we can work on before they have to jump into a game." Wood took a deep breath. "And I _**didn't **_put you on the team because you aren't a team player. You're arrogant, and you're bull-headed, and you refused to listen to me while you were trying out."

"I stopped…"

"Yes, I know how many goals you stopped. Doesn't matter. I was looking for more than just stopping goals," Wood revealed. "I'm looking for people who can mesh into the team; for reservists, I'm looking for people I can train. You're quick on a broom, but I can tell you aren't going to learn anything I want to teach you."

McLaggan wasn't appeased. He stomped towards the boy's stairs, only pausing long enough to scowl at Harry Potter. "I'm a better Keeper than your friend, and you know it. I should be on the team and you know it. I'm going to get you for this, somehow…" And with that, he headed up the stairs.

"Wow." Neville spoke into the silence in the room.

"I concur, Mister Longbottom." Professor McGonagall stood and straightened her robes. "My congratulations to the new reserve players. Mister Wood, well chosen, I think. If Mister McLaggan gives you any trouble, please refer him to me. I'm not sure I appreciate his attitude," she said as she was leaving. "No, I'm not sure at all."

In the wake of the professor's departure, the room began to empty. Harry moved to the large couch in front of the room's fireplace, and within moments Ginny had moved to snuggle with him. Hermione sat between Luna and Neville on the loveseat, while Ron took up the opposite end of the couch from Harry and Ginny.

"Well, today has been exciting," Hermione began. She looked at her friends expectantly, but for the most part they only nodded. "Er… could I ask someone a question?"

That caught everyone's attention. It was usually they who were asking Hermione something. "Sure, Hermione… what's up?" Neville smiled at her.

"That word that Malfoy used today… the one that caused everyone to tense up. Mudblood. What does that mean?"

Ron shook his head and snickered. He moved his gaze to the carpeted floor to avoid the sharp looks he was being given by everyone but Hermione.

"What's funny, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. It's not funny." But Ron couldn't help but snicker again. He finally shrugged. "I'm sorry… it's just… shock, I suppose." He looked up at Hermione and squirmed for a moment. "Sorry… it just… I can't help it."

Harry was still staring at Ron, but the glare had diminished. "Yeah, it happens. Hermione, imagine you're in church, and someone from outside runs in and shouts 'KISS MY BUTT' into the air before running back out. Everyone would be appalled, but there's always one guy who'd start giggling because he can't believe what he heard. That's Ron right now."

"Ah." Hermione thought about it for a moment. "And… er… Malfoy would be the person who wanted the church to kiss his… er…"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, about."

"But worse," Neville added.

"Much worse," Ginny said. "It means 'dirty blood', and it's a really foul word used to insult people like you. You know… Muggle-born."

"It's sort of like… ahem…" Harry cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "Malfoy calling you a Mudblood is like someone calling Pavarti a Paki, or Seamus a Mick, or Dean a ni..."

"I get the picture, Harry!" Hermione interrupted. Harry blushed, obviously relieved that he hadn't actually had to complete the sentence.

"But much worse," Luna added.

"How is it worse?" Hermione asked. "Prejudice is prejudice, right?"

"It's worse because this prejudice is part of the Wizarding World, where racism isn't, anymore. Blood-prejudice still rules our society." Luna reported this fact with all the calmness she'd have used to report that the sun was up.

"What?"

Luna nodded. "You're absolutely correct, Hermione… we're going to have to do something about that. I'll help you." She grasped one of Hermione's hands gently and gave it a squeeze.

"Don't worry about Malfoy, Hermione." Ginny said. "He's a little dog with a big bark but not a lot of bite. The only time he ever really hurt anyone was when he ambushed Harry on the train that one time. Right Harry?"

But Harry was looking at her oddly, like he had no clue as to what she was referring.

XxxxxxX


	12. Shadowy Men With Shadowy Purposes

**Chapter 12: **_**Shadowy Men With Shadowy Purposes**_

The Heir of Slytherin studied the group of students through intensely blue eyes. He was careful to keep the usual soft, blank expression on his host's face as he watched the discussion around him. He wasn't paying attention to what was being said so much as who was speaking, and what roles they played in the dynamics of the group. The Heir was correlating what his host had written about each of these children with what he was observing. Putting names to faces, identifying threats, gathering intelligence.

The Potter boy had been identified almost immediately. Charismatic, clearly a leader, it was obvious to the Heir that Harry Potter was a wizard of exceptional power. But most importantly, he had the scar on his forehead while the other boy, who could only be the Longbottom whelp, didn't. When the host had first written about the exploits of "the famous Harry Potter", they seemed just short of unbelievable! How could it be possible that this… this… second year student, all but a Muggle-born, had defeated the greatest wizard the world had ever seen? And while still an infant, no less? Nothing he had learned… no spell, no ritual, no enchantment, would grant a mere baby enough power to defeat a wizard as powerful and skilled as Lord Voldemort.

_I must find out just what magic my older self attempted to use… perhaps he was caught up in some strange miscasting, _he thought to himself. _Such an event isn't likely, but it would certainly be more likely than a pitiful Muggle-spawn infant overpowering a Dark Lord._

"He's a violent git, and he's hurt people lots of times," the Potter boy was saying to the red-headed girl. "What about that time that he…?" The Heir studied the girl for a moment. His host had written that the girl was married to the Potter boy somehow, though some mystic gewgaw called a Soul Stone. The Heir had never heard of such a thing, which was surprising. He was, after all, quite diligent in his research regarding powerful magic.

It was likely that, rather than simply never having heard of them, he had done some preliminary research, found that they were useless to him, and moved on. Apparently, all they did was bind prepubescent children into life-bonds, something the Heir considered an immensely stupid waste of magic. The Heir studies the girl for a moment. She resembled the Heir's host enough that it was obvious this was "Ginny", the host's sister. And oh, how the host had ranted and raged and whined and mewled about how the interloping sister had broken up the true, real, perfect friendship felt between the host and the Potter boy. While still in the book, the Heir had been hard pressed not to laugh when he was told the horrors of what had happened. It was, in a word, pathetic.

Though it was odd, how he was struck by headaches every time he actually _looked _at the ring on the Weasley girl's hand…

The host was an extremely jealous and angry person, who constantly felt overshadowed by everyone around him (and what luck… such dark, hateful emotions, combined with the boy's laziness and lack of focus, were essential to the ease in which the Heir was assuming control more and more often), and had poured his envy into the diary, and the larger part of his envy dealt with this one person: his sister. Younger than the host, the girl was supposed to be subordinate to the host in the same way the host was subordinate to his older brothers… except she was the first female in the family in generations, and thus was special. She was treated like a family heirloom by their parents, rather than be someone the host could look down upon and condescend to. And now, not only did she garner special treatment because of her gender, she was "married" to a celebrity, with access to that celebrity's influence, wealth, and power.

The Heir almost laughed at the irony. It still came as a surprise that the host hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.

He looked for a moment at the ring on her finger. The thing's presence caused him no small amount of unpleasantness when he was in control of the host. It wasn't anything tangible… just a constant urge tofidget, lower his eyes, mumble, and escape to anywhere at all, except for anywhere close to the stone. _It is almost as if the ring knows that I am here, and is staring at me, _he thought.

"But I don't remember him doing that at all, Harry? When did he do that?" The Heir rolled his host's eyes, amazed that they were still arguing over such inconsequentials as just how much of an "evil git" this Draco Malfoy person was. The Heir had smirked when he heard the name… he had been, after all, a classmate of Abraxas Malfoy. Draco would be either a grandchild or a great-grandchild, obviously, but either way, he was the perfect red herring to cover the Heir's activities.

For the first time, the Heir decided to speak. "Does it truly matter whether or not Malfoy did or did not do some specific unpleasant act? It's clear that he's the perfect suspect," he said. "What we need to do is keep an eye on him to catch him in the act the next time he tries to kill someone." _There,_ the Heir thought. _That ought to keep them safely on the wrong trail._

The Potter boy returned his words with a deep stare. That, too, was uncomfortable. Finally, the Boy Who Didn't Die said, "Maybe he is the Heir of Slytherin. But I don't know… he just doesn't seem…"

"Smart enough?" the blonde girl with the bug eyes asked.

"Yeah… I mean, if Dumbledore can't figure out how to open the Chamber, then how could thick-as-a-brick Malfoy do it?"

Everyone nodded, and a long moment of silence descended. The Heir was sure to nod also, as the others expected him to. He had to keep the cover up until his control was complete. Then his resurrection would have reached the inevitable stage. At that point, it didn't matter who knew the truth.

The bushy-haired girl… who was either the Mudblood, Granger, or the pureblood Lovegood; the host hadn't been specific about anyone's appearance, and even then he'd only mentioned Potter's scar… broke the silence with a question. "Er… not to completely change the subject, but… what is a Sept?"

_So she is Hermione Granger, the Mudblood._ The Heir looked over to the blonde with the protruding eyes. _And that's the Lovegood girl, the pureblood. Luna._

"What?" The Potter boy answered.

"This afternoon… Neville declared that I and my parents were now "Sept" to the Longbottoms… Fred told me to agree to it so I did, but no one ever explained what a Sept was. So… what did I just sign my parents up for?"

The Heir rolled his host's eyes again. Such ignorance in the ways of the Pure was only one of the myriad reasons why their filth shouldn't be allowed to pollute Wizarding society. When he regained his body and came to his true power, the Granger girl would be the first example made of the harm that the Mudbloods and their Muggle-trash forbears caused.

"Well…" The Longbottom boy's face lost the slack-jawed expression that seemed its natural position as the boy began speaking. "Basically I declared you a part of my family, even though there's no blood-relation between us. It's sort of like… well… you know when you have aunts and uncles and cousins, and sometimes your cousins don't share your surname, because they're part of different families, but they're still you're cousins and thus part of your family too?" Everyone but the Heir nodded. He was beginning to despair of how useful this information might actually be. It was so boring listening to this idiot prattle on.

"A Sept is sort of like your cousins. People in a Sept are a part of your family, even if they are in another family entirely, but the Sept doesn't have to have married into the family like your in-laws do." The Longbottom boy finished with a blush. "Though… you know… marriage between a family and its Sept isn't _that _uncommon…"

"So… I'm a Longbottom now?" the girl asked.

The Heir couldn't resist speaking up. "Not technically. You'd have to be a pureblood born to the Longbottom line to really be a Longbottom."

Longbottom stared at him for a long while. The Heir was amazed to see the beginnings of anger in the younger boy's eyes. But nothing was said. Instead, Longbottom turned back to the Mudblood girl. "By becoming a Sept to the House of Longbottom, you're considered by the Old Laws and by the Twelve Houses to be a Longbottom in all but name. While, as Ron points out…" the Heir smirked at the angry glance. "… You are still technically a Muggle-born, you and your parents are also members of one of the oldest of the pureblood lines. Because of this, the Slytherins will leave you alone because they don't want the political fall-out."

The Heir laughed. It was a sharp, cruel bark. "Yeah, unless they come from a family who outranks the Longbottoms or they think they can get away with it." He turned to the Mudblood girl. "His House's protection is fine, as far as it goes, but I'd still grow eyes in the back of your head."

"Ronald!" It was the sister speaking. Her eyes were wide with shock and outrage. "What a horrible thing to say!" All eyes were on the host as she yelled at him. _It would be so easy to end her… to shut her screeching mouth up forever, _he thought. _A wave of the wand and two little words and she'd be as cold as a fish. It would be so easy to deal with these insignificant brats…_

But no… now was not the time. His spirit wasn't quite free from the enchantments holding it to the diary. His time would come. _Soon enough, I'll have all of their lives in the palm of my hand. And I will crush them, utterly._ His eyes fell on the Potter boy as he willed himself to recede into the back of the host's mind. _And I'll leave Potter for last, so he can watch the deaths of his friends…_

XxxxxxX

Ron blinked for a moment, and then blushed as he realized his sister was yelling at him for something he'd said. He wasn't sure what he had said to get himself in trouble this time… he just that he was once again in trouble. It seemed to be happening more and more frequently, and he had a creeping, dark feeling about it. "What? What did I say?"

The rest of the group just stared. "Honestly, Ron… could you be more of an insensitive prat?" Hermione said, the disgust she was feeling blatant on her face.

Ron stared at each of his friends for a moment, looking each in the eyes. They were all angry at him, and he had no idea why they should be. What had he said that was so wrong? He had no idea, and they looked to not be willing to tell him. "Don't look at me like that!" he growled angrily. "I don't know what the matter with _you_," he retorted to Hermione, grasping for something, anything to say in return. "But it's your problem, not mine. If you're going to bite my head off, don't think you can come to me when you need help!" He stood and ran for the stairs, cursing the blank spots in his memory, and the fact that, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to mention them to anyone…

The other five children stared at the retreating back of Ronald Weasley, obviously shocked at his reactions. "What…" Neville swallowed. "What is he going on about? He just needs to think before he speaks, is all… it's not _that_ big a deal…"

"He's been acting odd, lately. I don't know what's going on with him," Ginny said, finally.

Luna was contemplative. "He's stressed about something. No idea what, though…"

Everyone nodded. No one could think of anything normal that would put a twelve year old boy under that much stress.

Harry took a deep breath. "So… anyway… what were we talking about?"

Neville, Hermione, and Ginny all spoke simultaneously. "Septs," the boy said, while Hermione added, "The Chamber of Secrets." Ginny blurted out, "Malfoy."

Harry looked at his three friends, and then turned toward Luna, who smiled. "Nargles," the blonde girl said.

"What?" Everyone turned to look at her.

"Well, it was my turn, wasn't it? I thought we should talk about Ronald and his Nargle infestation. Something must be done about that before he starts randomly sprouting bad poetry," Luna said, the same blank smile on her face as always.

"What are Nagles?" Hermione knew that she shouldn't have asked, but she couldn't help it.

"Not Nagles… Nargles… Oh, they are fascinating creatures. Very small, and they hide in greenery. When you hang mistletoe, for example, you must be very careful to shake the Nargles out of it before the actual hanging, or else they will fly up your nose and lay eggs there. And then you'll be sneezing Nargle eggs all day. They are quite clever little thieves too."

Again, they all stared. Finally, Luna smiled at Hermione, "You are very cute when you are confused. Did you know that? Your eyes sparkle in just the best way."

The bushy-haired girl blushed, but she returned the smile. Hermione coughed into her hand, and then turned her full attention to Luna. "I wonder, Luna… would Nargles be vulnerable to depredation? Because their natural habitat sounds suspiciously close to that of a henway, and I thought that maybe Nargles were its natural prey."

For the first time, it was Luna that was confused. "I don't think I've ever heard of… what is a henway, Hermione?"

"Oh, about two and a half kilograms…" It was spoken with as flat a tone, and as blank an expression, as Hermione could manage. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Harry sputtered into weak laughter. Neville followed quickly, then Ginny. Luna continued to look from one person to the other, her eyes wide.

"I don't understand... Why are you…?" Luna's expression blanked for a moment, and then she smiled wider at Hermione. "Oh, I see. That was very clever!" She leaned toward Hermione and kissed the older girl on the cheek. "Thank you."

Hermione blushed again and brought a hand up to the cheek Luna had graced. Her eyes sought Neville, and Hermione saw the boy staring intently at her. He was also blushing… a fact that made Hermione blush all the more.

XxxxxxX

XxxxxxX

Oliver Wood was determined to win the Quidditch Cup this year, and had been drilling his team until they were ready to drop. And when they were ready to drop, they practiced even harder. He had swiftly discovered that Ron was not only a fair Keeper, he had a head for Quidditch the likes of which Wood himself had only dreamed about. As such, he had immediately recruited Ron into the planning process, coming up with plays for the team to learn during their practices.

The morning of the year's first Quidditch match, the Potters and Ron joined the rest of the Gryffindor team for breakfast. Harry barely had a chance to tuck in a piece of bacon and some toast before Oliver began exhorting the team to do their best. The Gryffindors were facing their arch-rivals, the Slytherins, and Wood was playing up the "conflict" the two teams had during their most recent encounter as a way to encourage his players aggressiveness.

"You can't let those filthy snakes win! You owe it to our House itself! You owe it to our fellow Gryffindors! You owe it to McGonagall!"

"We owe it to Her Majesty, the Queen!" Fred called in response.

"We owe it to Merlin!" George answered.

"… To Ollivander!"

"… To Mum and Dad!"

"… To Stubby Boardman!"

Wood's face grew stern. "Cut it out, you two. Could you take this seriously? We can't afford to let our guard down! Harry!" Everyone was surprised by the sudden change in Wood's attention from the entire team to Harry specifically.

"Er… yes?"

"You know what to do! Catch the snitch, or die trying!" Wood's eyes were blazing.

"Er… okay?" Harry's voice was weak. He turned to Ginny, but she was no help… she looked to be suffering from an acute case of the giggles at Wood's fervent enthusiasm. Harry _did _want to beat Slytherin, but he wasn't quite sure he liked the sound of _'Catch the snitch or die trying'_. That just sounded reckless.

At half-ten, Wood stood. "All right, troops… let's get ready." The Gryffindor team followed him down to the team's changing rooms. It wasn't quite autumn, and summer was almost over, but it was still a hot, almost muggy day. The sky seemed to be scowling at the Earth… clouds were everywhere, and the occasional roll of thunder could be heard off in the distance.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron waved to Hermione, Neville, and Luna as they entered the team's locker rooms. The players, both the first string and the reserves, put on the crimson robes of the Lions of Gryffindor team, then gathered to listen to Wood's usual pre-game pep talk.

"Those arrogant snakes aren't going to know what hit them! We've been training harder and better than they have! We've flown in the rain and the shine ("… and the fog," George Weasley muttered, "… and the hail…"), and know this pitch better than we know our own homes ("… I've lost so much sleep I know it better than the inside of my eyelids…" Fred Weasley commented)! The Quidditch cup is ours for the taking! We've got the best brooms in the world, the best players in the school, and none of our parents had to _buy _our way onto the team!"

Wood turned to Harry. "Remember, Harry… I want us to not only win; I want us to be in a good position for the cup… so we need to run the score up some before you grab the snitch. It's up to you, Harry… I know you can fly rings around that blonde ponce! Show him that a Seeker is more than slicked back hair and a rich father! Make the bugger cry, Harry! It's a moral imperative!"

"Sounds like fun, eh, Harry?" said Fred, winking at him.

As the Gryffindors walked out onto the pitch, they were met with loud cheering. Word had gotten out about how Malfoy's father tried buying his son's way onto the team by supplying superior brooms. Such an obvious ploy was an affront to the Ravenclaw sense of dignity and the Hufflepuff ideal of fair play. Spectators from both houses were anxious to see Slytherin team thrashed. Their loud cheers and whistles drowned out the boos and hisses coming from the Slytherin bleachers.

At Madame Hooch's instruction, the two team Captains clenched each other's hands hard enough to bruise flesh and crush bone. Each team gave the other hostile stares. Harry found himself the target of such a glare from Draco Malfoy, but rather than being intimidated, Harry only laughed.

_Hermione's more intimidating when she gets her teeth into a research project. This bloody arse doesn't stand a chance._ Harry grinned at Malfoy and swiftly gave the other boy the two-finger salute. The look of shock on Malfoy's face made Harry's morning seem somehow brighter.

Madame Hooch signaled the two teams to mount their brooms, and as he did Harry glanced to the team bench, where the reserve players waited. He gave Ginny a small wave, and then crouched slightly to improve his kickoff when the whistle blew.

"On my mark…" the Flying Instructor called. "Three… two… one…" The roar of the crowd drowned out the sound of Hooch's whistle, and the fourteen broom-riders rocketed into the swiftly graying sky. Harry spiraled upward quickly, hoping to take a quick over-watch position above the field. His eyes scanned the entire pitch, looking for any hint of the Snitch.

Harry watched as his nemesis approached. "All right there, Scarhead?" Malfoy called as he rocketed by. The Slytherin had intentionally come closer to Harry than necessary, and much faster than Harry would have done. _Just trying to intimidate me, _Harry thought to himself. He turned to look for the Snitch behind him, and was suddenly glad he did… one of the Bludgers was careening in his direction.

Harry began a slow acceleration, trying to time it exactly. He maneuvered his broom to just the right angle and held in place, waiting. He watched as the Bludger came closer and closer… and at the very last moment dropped into a static roll. The black iron ball flew past him close enough for the wind of its passage to muss his hair. From the direction the Bludger went, Harry heard Draco Malfoy's abrupt "awrk" as the ball brushed past the Slytherin's broom just at Draco's eye level. Harry had timed it perfectly.

"Good job, Harry! That'll keep him awake!" called George as he streaked past the two Seekers. George skillfully knocked the Bludger toward Adrian Pucey, but it only traveled a couple of meters before arcing back toward Harry. Harry dove toward the turf to avoid it as George maneuvered to hit it toward Malfoy. Again, the Bludger changed its path to angle back toward Harry.

Harry accelerated away, heading toward the opposite end of the pitch. Behind him, he could hear the sound of the Bludger cutting through the air, following him. _What in hell is going on? _he asked himself. _Bludgers don't chase people!_ Ahead of him, Harry could see Fred Weasley maneuvering into position. Harry met Fred's eyes, and without speaking the two boys formed a plan. Harry leaned forward, accelerating even more, and ducked under Fred's arm just as the Weasley boy began his swing.

"Gotcha!" Fred cried as his beater-bat impacted the iron ball. As if connected to Harry by a cable, the Bludger was knocked off course only a few meters before once again turning to the chase. Harry sped away as quickly as he could, the Bludger remaining in his wake no matter how he zigged or zagged. Harry had no chance to watch for the Snitch… he was too busy flying around the pitch at top speed, trying fruitlessly to shake the rogue Bludger from his tail.

The first hint of how the game was going came when he flew low past the faculty box. It had just begun to rain when he heard Lee Jordan, the school's Quidditch commentator, call out "… And Johnson brings the Gryffindor score to eighty points to Slytherins thirty…" Oliver Wood's training regimen was clearly doing its job.

The mad Bludger stayed on Harry as if glued to him. The situation had become so bad that Fred and George began to fly in close formation with Harry. Their positions gave Harry protection against the malfunctioning ball, but unfortunately kept him from hunting for the Golden Snitch. "This Bludger's been tampered with, I'd wager," Fred grunted as he used his bat to drive off yet another of the ball's attacks on Harry.

"It's got to be one of the Slytherins… probably Malfoy," George said through gritted teeth. He knocked the Bludger away for the fifth time in three minutes. "He's getting back at you for ruining his surprise."

Harry ducked as the Bludger made it past Fred. It nearly had him that time; if it had been an inch lower, he'd have been hit in the head rather than just have the Bludger muss his hair. "What are you talking about?"

Fred's eyes narrowed as he took aim. "Ron told us you bought the new brooms for Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, Harry… brilliant move by the way." The boy knocked the Bludger clear again.

George signaled to Wood, "We need a time out! _Oh shit!"_ He twisted around barely in time to knock the ball away from Harry's head. Had George missed, it would have knocked Harry off his broom. Wood nodded and called for Madame Hooch. At the teacher's whistle, the three dove quickly for the ground, still trying to bat the Bludger away.

"Why did I just call a time out?" Wood asked. "Fred, George, what are you doing? Angelina almost got her arm broke by a Bludger just now! Where were you?"

"Keeping Harry alive, Oliver… the other Bludger's been hexed! It's following Harry everywhere and we can't knock it away. It just keeps coming. I think Malfoy or one of the other Slytherins did it," Fred said. All three of the boys were taking heavy gulps of air, trying to catch their breath.

"That's impossible. The balls have all been locked in Hooch's office since our last practice." Oliver looked upward, noting the heavy iron ball that seemed to be circling, almost hungrily, like a shark circling a swimmer in the ocean. He looked over George's shoulder and saw Madame Hooch approaching.

"We've got to ask for an inquiry or something…" Angelina Johnson began, but Oliver just shook his head.

"If we stop now, we've forfeited the match, and there's no way in Merlin's bloody hell that I'll forfeit to _them."_ He jerked his head toward the Slytherin bleachers.

Harry looked over to Ginny, and when their eyes met he could feel the fear and concern that was dominating her mind right now. She'd known perfectly what was going on, and she was terrified he was going to get hurt. He blew a kiss at her and smiled, trying to make himself feel calmer so she would too. Harry turned back to his team and decided to bite the bullet.

"Guys… when we start play again, let me deal with the Bludger. You two watch over the girls. I'll be fine." Harry glanced up at the circling Bludger and swallowed, hoping he knew what he was doing.

"Harry, don't be an idiot… that thing will kill you in a second!" Fred huffed.

"Look, the only way I'll be able to catch the Snitch is if I can get some clearance, and I can't do that with you two shadowing my every move. Trust me… I'll work it out." Harry looked to Oliver. "I'll get the Snitch. Trust me."

Oliver looked to Harry, then to the twins. "You heard him."

Fred and George shook their heads in disgust. "Get the Snitch or die trying… if he gets killed, his blood will be on your hands… don't expect us to protect you from Ginny!"

Oliver Wood swallowed heavily and looked to his reserve bench, where Ginny Potter sat, fear obvious in her eyes. He turned back to the twins and nodded. "Protect the Chasers… Harry says he can take care of himself, let him try."

The rain had increased during their time out, and when the team launched themselves back into the air visibility was cut to almost zero. Harry leapt into the air and sped away as quickly as he could. He felt more than heard or saw the Bludger tailing him, and in response he leaned over the broom's handle, swiftly reaching its top speed. He flew like a madman, twisting, turning, diving, rolling, and zigzagging so much that were he a less talented flyer he'd no doubt be dizzy. But Harry felt just fine. The Bludger was heavier than he was, and that affected how quickly it could change direction.

Harry ducked under the iron ball and stood his broom on its tail. His feet slid backwards until they rested on the collar that held the twigs to the handle, and with a suddenly upward burst, he climbed suddenly. The Bludger tried to match courses, but couldn't. Instead, it rocketed straight into Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain. Harry spun in place and hopped his broom to the side as the ball ricocheted past him on the rebound.

Oliver Wood instantly felt better about leaving Harry on his own.

The rain almost drowned out Malfoy's taunt. "What are you doing, Scarhead? Training for the ballet?" Harry glared at Malfoy over his shoulder and suddenly saw it. The Golden Snitch was hovering just above and behind Malfoy, matching the Slytherin's movements. Harry again stood his broom on end, but this time instead of rocketing upward, he allowed it to fall completely over, effectively turning 180 ⁰ in the space of a few centimeters. Hanging on to the bottom of his broom, Harry knew he likely looked very silly, but in this case, it was the fastest way to perform the maneuver he wanted.

Harry rolled as he swiftly approached his rival. He waited as long as he could before extending his arm to catch the Snitch… the last thing he wanted was for Malfoy to realize what was going on, because the Slytherin boy needed only to reach out… But instead Malfoy's eyes widened in fear as Harry darted toward him. In desperation, the Slytherin dove toward the dirt.

Harry was so focused on the Snitch that he had forgotten about the Bludger. He was rudely reminded when it suddenly impacted his elbow, snapping the bones in his arm. Harry screamed in pain. The shock of seeing his own bones sticking through the sleeve of his Quidditch robes almost made him pass out, but he kept one thought in his head: the Snitch! He could see the Bludger curving back toward him, this time head-on, and he gritted his teeth. Harry allowed himself to fall forward on his broom, and just as the Bludger passes bare centimeters over his back, he shot his uninjured arm out. His fingers closed around the golden ball.

The pain from his broken arm caused Harry to slump even further forward on his broom, and it nosed over into a shallow dive. He bounced off the muddy turf twice before falling off the broom. Harry skidded to a stop, rolling the entire way. Each bounce caused him to scream out in anguish as his injured arm broke again, and again…

Very slowly, Harry brought his uninjured arm up to his eyes; the Snitch was nothing more than a small golden blur. He'd lost his glasses in the impact, and the rain was making his vision worse. He could hear a loud noise… cheering? It sounded as if he was hearing the sound through a very long hose.

A pale round blur topped with a fiery red patch appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the rainy sky. He smiled up at it dimly, not sure what he was seeing. As the blur got closer and closer, he finally could tell that it was Ginny. His Ginny. His smile grew wider.

"… Harry!" like the cheering, Ginny's voice was coming to him from far away. "… Help is coming, Harry!" He felt her gently caress his face as she kissed him. It was the last thing he felt before passing out.

XxxxxxX

It was the rain that brought him around, despite the pain. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and abruptly realized that what he was looking at was a mass of brightly shining teeth. "No…" he moaned. "Not you… anyone but you…"

"Clearly he's out of his head from the pain. Doesn't know what he is saying." Gilderoy Lockhart bellowed. "Don't worry, Harry… your arm will be fixed in a jiff!"

"No… don't do anything!" Harry cried. Frantically, he glanced around… Ginny had been pushed away by the obnoxious teacher. Fred and George… he couldn't see where the twins were. Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet were standing nearby, their worry plain in their eyes.

"Professor, I think you should wait for Madame Pomfrey," Ginny said, tugging on Lockhart's arm.

"Nonsense… it's a simple charm, I assure you… use it all the time!" Lockhart twirled his wand in an overly-flashy manner, and then poked Harry with the tip. A jolt of bluish light shot out of it into Harry's broken arm. Harry clamped his jaws together in anticipation of some horrible new pain… but he was shocked when most of the pain abruptly disappeared. Harry stared down at his arm… which felt strange and rubbery all of a sudden. He had no idea what had happened, but was sure it was bad. He looked at the faces of those around him, and that only confirmed it… something bad had just happened.

"Ah…" Lockhart said, the confidence leaching from his voice. "Yes… well… that… does… sometimes happen." There was a silent moment and the professor was back in form. "Well… what's important, of course, is that the bones of your arm are no longer broken! Now… if you lot would escort Harry here to the Hospital Wing…" Lockhart gestured to the entire Quidditch team plus Hermione, Neville, and Luna, who had just arrived. "I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will have you back in form in no time. No need to worry, Harry! Easily fixed."

The Weasley twins carefully helped Harry regain his footing. He stared down at his arm where it was poking through the sleeve of his robes. It looked, for all the world, like an overstuffed sausage. Gingerly, Harry pulled his arm up and cradled it with the other.

"Blimey, Harry…" Ron asked, incredulous. "What did that bugger do to you?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, Ron… it doesn't hurt… it just feels very odd." Vaguely, he waggled his arm at the wrist and watched it flop back and forth. "I think he made the bones in my arm disappear!"

XxxxxxX

"What was he thinking? You should have come to me right off!" Madame Pomfrey was in a fine fettle. She'd started yelling mere seconds after Harry and the team arrived, and hadn't let up yet. "Healing broken bones is nothing… I can do that in seconds… but this… well, let me tell you, regrowing entire bones is something else entirely!" She wrenched the door to a metal wardrobe open and began searching through it. "It takes a long time, Potter, and I assure you it will not be pleasant. It's easier for me to give you a Sleeping Potion and have you sleep through the pain. Put those on, Potter." She through a bundle of cotton cloth at Harry, and he only barely managed to catch it one-handed. She turned to the rest of the team. "You lot clear out… there's nothing more to see here. Mister Potter will be fine in the morning. Now shoo!"

Harry's friends filed out, each calling a goodbye or a bland reassurance that he'd be okay. The last out were Ginny, Neville, and Luna. Harry examined the cloth for a moment before realizing that they were a set of striped pajamas. In minutes, the girls were waiting outside of the bed's curtain while Neville helped Harry get dressed. It was especially difficult stuffing the boneless arm into a pajama sleeve. When they were done, they called the girls back, knowing that at any moment, Madame Pomfrey would return and drive the stragglers away from her patient.

"That was harder than I thought… It was a bit like stuffing a sausage casing, I suppose," Neville joked. Harry couldn't help but laugh… he just wished the joke hadn't been on him.

Ginny was fuming. "What was Professor Lockhart thinking? I'm sure Harry didn't want to have his arm deboned. Why didn't he leave well enough alone?" Everyone else just nodded.

Luna broke the silence. "Harry, I wanted to congratulate you on your catch despite the grievous bodily harm you suffered from the Bludger and subsequently plowing into the ground. I'm sure lying down in the mud puddles wasn't a very pleasant experience."

Harry laughed. "No, not pleasant at all… I don't recommend lying down in the mud…"

"At least we won, despite the Poggles getting into the Bludger and upsetting its delicate machinery," Luna observed. "And you flew like a bird…"

"Yeah, that Bludger… it was bewitched or something, wasn't it?" Neville asked.

"I think so… Fred and George think Malfoy jinxed it in revenge for the other day. I wonder how he managed it," Harry responded.

A moment later, Madame Pomfrey rounded the curtain, carrying a white bottle marked "Skele-Grow"and a blue, unmarked bottle that Harry assumed was the sleeping potion. "All right, you three… OUT! This young man has thirty-three bones to regrow. It's going to be a rough night for him, and he needs his rest." She poured some of the Skele-Grow into a glass. "Drink this…"

It was, perhaps, the foulest tasting liquid ever to pass his lips. It tasted of moldy socks and fetid swamps and the insole of sweaty shoes, and burned his mouth and throat on the way down. He coughed and choked, barely keeping the foul elixir down. Madame Pomfrey watched Harry for a moment… perhaps to make sure the boy didn't vomit the foul potion back up… then handed him the other bottle. "This is a Sleeping Draught, Mister Potter. Drink it down."

Harry up-ended the bottle down his throat and almost choked. It wasn't as outright evil as the Skele-Grow, but still managed to be right horrible… something along the lines of moldy bread mixed with horse's sweat and whatever you could scrape from the bottom of a cage that had been holding an Owl suffering from dysentery. He felt the effects of the Sleeping Draught as almost immediately his eyelids got heavy and his body began to numb. He gave the blue bottle back to Madame Pomfrey carefully… he wasn't sure about controlling his good hand just then.

XxxxxxX

The Heir of Slytherin crept from one shadow to the other. His intended destination was the girl's bathroom on the second floor. The increased diligence of the teachers and prefects, caused no doubt by his murder of the filthy Squib caretaker, was making it difficult to simply walk about at night. Casually, the Heir remembered the same sort of thing happening the first time he opened the Chamber, when he had directed Slytherin's pet to kill the Muggleborn girl, Myrtle.

He'd quietly left the Gryffindor common room, glad at last to be shed of that mouthy punk with the camera. The idiot didn't know how lucky he was… his endless chattering to the Heir's host had almost reached the final nerve, and the Heir had been mere seconds away from cursing the boy. Luckily patience had won out, and the filthy Muggle had revealed his plans to sneak into the Hospital Wing to visit the injured Harry Potter.

Potter had been the subject of much thought, recently. The Heir still could scarcely believe an infant had defeated the greatest wizard the world had ever seen. It was unfathomable… and yet it was apparently true. But the more the Heir studied the Potter boy, the more it became clear that Potter was extraordinarily powerful; at least as powerful as a young Tom Riddle… the Heir shuddered at the thought of the name… was at age 12. And while Potter was ignorant of much of the Wizarding world, it had become apparent after several classes that spell knowledge wasn't an area of ignorance.

The Heir still didn't know how an infant had defeated Lord Voldemort, but he did know this: having an adult, fully-trained Harry Potter as an enemy could potentially be as spectacularly dangerous as having Dumbledore as one. It thus behooved the Heir to make sure Potter never reached the "adult, fully-trained stage." And he knew just what to do to lure the Potter boy into a trap.

He stopped for a moment, half-hidden by a suit of armor, and watched as the idiot Defense teacher sashayed down the corridor away from him. _To think that he's a pureblood… the arrogant prat is actually checking his hair in the reflection from a suit of armor._ The thought came unbidden to him that perhaps it might be a good idea to expand some of his target list… not all purebloods would be useful in Voldemort's perfect world…

The useless git of a teacher disappeared, and the Heir was about to step out of the shadow when he heard a voice behind him. "Well, well, well… what do we find here, fellows… looks like the Weasel is out for a midnight stroll…"

The Heir turned and sneered at Draco Malfoy and his ever-present henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. "If you know what's good for you, boy, you'll turn that yellow tail of yours and run back to your beds." His voice was low and gravelly, much deeper than Ron Weasley's own voice. It should have served as a warning, but of course it was lost on Malfoy.

"Oh yeah? And what will you do if we don't? There's three of us, Weasel, and only one of you… where's Potter? Off shagging your sister? Oh, wait… your sister doesn't do boys, does she? She's more into that blonde lunatic who always tags along after Potter…" Malfoy smirked. "Are you that way, too, Weasel? Are you looking for some bloke to have a bit of fun with? A bit of slap and tickle? What do you know, fellows…? Weasels a poof just like his sister's a…" That was all Malfoy got to say. The accusations of deviant behavior against the Host's sister… or even against the Host himself… didn't bother the Heir at all. No, it was simply the need to not be discovered.

Ever since he had discovered his wizardly nature, the young Tom Riddle had purposefully avoided living like a Muggle as much as possible. But that didn't mean he didn't remember his hardscrabble life in the orphanage, when he had to fight for every right, privilege, and dignity he could. In a flash, the Heir had leapt forward, smashing his fist into the blond arse's nose. As the Malfoy boy collapsed to the floor in pain, the Heir had spun and kicked the Goyle boy right in the stomach. Goyle collapsed, the air driven out of his lungs from the force of the kick. Seeing two of his friends go down so easily, Crabbe froze. It was clear he had no idea what to do without Malfoy's direction, or Goyle's support. It gave the Heir a chance to draw the Host's wand.

Doing magic was a chore with the wand… it had been clear the first time the Heir had tried that Ron's wand was a hand-me-down. It took a bit of struggle to get the thing to answer, but eventually answer it did. The Heir _Stupefied _Crabbe, then summoned ropes to tie the three together. With a smile, he vanished their clothing and used a sticking charm to make them even closer than the ropes allowed.

"And to think you're supposed to be the best Slytherin's produced this year, Malfoy. My, have the standards fallen," the Heir whispered. He silently O_bliviated _the three boys, leaving them in the middle of the hall for the next teacher to find… though there was a small, childish part of the Heir that hoped they weren't discovered before the normal student traffic filled the hall.

With a cruel snort, the Heir began his trek to the girl's bathroom again. He would enter the chamber and retrieve Slytherin's pet… and after that, he had a rendezvous with Mister Colin "Won't Shut His God-Damned Muggle Mouth" Creevey…


	13. The Dueling Club

**A/N: This chapter has been revised from its original posting. Duke Brymin: Good catch on the minor errors. I wrote and rewrite most of this in the middle of the night while I was tired, and thus ended up writing some things that made no sense. Thanks for the save.**

**Chapter 13: **_**The Dueling Club**_

The discovery of Colin Creevey's mangled body resulted in a return of the Aurors to Hogwarts, and a return of the gossip. The students began eyeing each other with suspicion, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was swiftly escalating from a cold war to a hot one. Members of both Houses were falling into the habit of traveling in groups to avoid random hexing.

It shamed Harry to realize that among the many feelings Creevey's death had stirred within him was _relief_. It wasn't the most prominent emotion the boy's murder had caused… no that was _guilt, _guilt over not being friendlier toward him, rather than constantly thinking of Colin as an annoyance. He knew his friends felt the same way… Ginny and Luna, who sat near Colin during several classes and who had treated him the kindliest, were distraught. Even Ron had cried when Dumbledore announced the murder in front of the assembled student body… even now, two weeks after Colin's death, merely mentioning him in Ron's presence would cause the red-headed boy to go into a deep funk.

Paranoia was running deeply, and everyone was feeling on-edge. It came as no surprise to any of the friends when it was discovered that some enterprising Slytherin student had started up an under-the-table business selling "protective amulets" that eventually were shown to be nothing more than cloth bags filled with hair, dried vegetables, and glitter. This scandal caused a great amount of gossip that only ended when a new notice was put up in the four common rooms. Word had travelled quickly, so even those who weren't able to get through the crowds of people surrounding the notice board found out that an officially sanctioned dueling club had been started.

As Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville followed Harry and Ginny down to the Great Hall for the first the club's first meeting, Harry chose to relate other information. "He just appeared out of nowhere, and woke me up by bouncing on the bed! He scared the dickens out of me!"

Ginny laughed and patted Harry on the shoulder. "My poor honey… frightened by a house elf. Your image as a tough guy and slayer of dark wizards is in peril if anyone finds out, Harry." Ron and Neville couldn't suppress chuckles. Luna merely smiled; her smile widened as she took in Hermione's confused look.

"What's a house elf? Why is it funny for one to have frightened Harry?" Hermione asked.

"A house elf is a little person that stands about two feet tall, Hermione," Luna answered. "They have big soft eyes and are just about the cutest magical creature on earth other than a miraj." Luna took Hermione's hand in her own and, laughing gently, gave it a gentle squeeze.

Only Neville noticed that the two girls never dropped each other's hands. "Er… Luna… isn't the miraj… I mean… isn't it… isn't the miraj a vicious predator? I heard they kill and eat entire cows at once," he asked.

Luna nodded. "Oh yes… the miraj completely bloodthirsty and violent. It is dangerous to be around, even for a fully trained wizard, as they are never truly tamed. But you can't deny they are cute… what, I ask you, is cuter than a fuzzy little bunny rabbit with a unicorn's horn on its head?"

Ahead of the rest of the group, only Harry and Ginny heard Ron's muttered "She's mental, I tell you…", but it was enough for the pair to suffer a short case of the giggles.

"So what did the house elf say, Harry?" Neville asked from the back.

Harry turned to walk backwards for a bit, rather than yell over his shoulder. Ginny moved closer to him, making sure he didn't trip or run into anything. "Well, for one he said he was responsible for sealing the portal to Platform 9 3/4, and that it was he who enchanted the Bludger to follow me like a foxhound on the scent."

Harry spun quickly, making sure his course was clear, and then turned back around. "He also said that I needed to leave Hogwarts because my life was in danger. As if that was a surprise." Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, and he confirmed the existence of the Chamber of Secrets. Apparently, this isn't the first time it's been opened… and people died the last time too… a Muggle-born girl…"

Ginny grabbed Harry by the arm and spun him back around to face front just in time to prevent her husband from slamming back-first into a pillar. He smiled sheepishly at her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Well that's what 'enemies of the heir' obviously means, doesn't it?" Ron said. It was a statement, not a question, despite how it was phrased. "Look at Slytherin House… when was the last time a Muggle-born was sorted into that House? For that matter, when was the last time a Half-Blood witch or wizard was sorted into Slytherin? It just doesn't happen."

"You're right, Ronald… even though the last Half-Blood Slytherin was sorted rather recently." At everyone's blank expressions, she continued. "It was last year… September 1, 1991." Luna said casually. "Tracey Davis. You must remember her, Ronald… she was in the same Sorting as you were. Before that, it was Severus Snape, sorted September 1, 1971.

"Wait… Mister Slytherin Git himself is a Half-Blood? Wow…" Neville looked shocked.

Luna nodded. "Yes, he is. And before that, you have to go all the way back to a boy named Tom Riddle way back in 1938." No one noticed Ron's expression darken at the mention of the name… the shadow that passed over the boy's face was there and gone too quickly. "I don't know if the Sorting Hat actually tests for blood purity when he sorts children into Slytherin House, or whether pureblood children are just naturally more inclined to have Slytherin attributes, but Half-Bloods are rare, and there's never been a Muggle-born in Slytherin at all."

It was Ginny's turn to walk backward. "How do you know this?"

Luna shrugged. "I read a lot… and anything I can get my hands on. Encyclopedias, dictionaries, biographies, old school records… it's all in the Library."

Ron turned back to Hermione. "Are you frightened? Does it frighten you?"

"Does what frighten me?" Hermione asked in return.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Does the fact that the Heir of Slytherin is singling attacking Muggle-born student frighten you?"

"Oh!" Hermione was silent for a moment. "I suppose I ought to be… but no, not really… I mean… I'm always surrounded by you guys… and if I can't trust my friends to watch out for me, who can I trust, right?"

As the group continued toward the Great Hall, no one noticed the grave smile that lit Ron's face. His eyes burned with a dim red for a moment. "You're right, Hermione… if you can't trust your friends, who can you trust…"

"What was that, Ron?" Luna asked from her place next to Hermione.

"What? Oh, nothing… just wondering which professor was going to run the Dueling Club. Flitwick's supposed to be a former All-Europe Champion… I hope it's him."

Harry chuckled as they reached the doors of the Great Hall. "The way our luck works, it's bound to be…"

"Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Gather round, students, gather round."

"… the plonker," Harry finished. His face fell visibly as he envisioned the results of a 'dueling lesson' led by Gilderoy Lockhart. The man in question was striding up and down a raised dueling platform. The Defense instructor was dressed in deep purple robes with a light violet piping. His hair, as always, was perfect. The other man on the platform, Professor Snape, was a study in contrast when seen next to Lockhart. The Potions Master was in his usual black robes, and stood motionless while Lockhart paced.

All around them milled what looked like most of the school's student body. They were standing around in loose clumps, separating themselves out by House, then year, then cliques within the year. Harry and his friends moved to stand near Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were conversing with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

"Excellent!" Lockhart began with a smile, "Now… you might be wonder why I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am here." The man grinned, exposing a set of teeth that were impressively white. "Obviously, I am the most logical person to instruct others on the ancient and noble arts of self-defense… please see my collected works as reference." He resumed pacing the length of the dueling platform as he spoke. "Professor Dumbledore has wisely agreed to allow me to start up a Dueling Club. It is the Headmaster's hope that you will all come away from this with some basic knowledge in how to defend yourself should the situation ever call for it."

"You all know my assistant, of course!" With a flourish, Lockhart waved Professor Snape forward. The Potions Master didn't move or smile. Indeed, it didn't even look like he was breathing. "When I mentioned I was beginning a dueling club, Professor Snape jumped at the chance to work with a true master… he says he knows a little bit about dueling, so I'm sure he'll do fine."

Lockhart nodded to Snape, who strode to one end of the platform while the Defense professor moved to the other. "We'll begin with a little demonstration. Don't worry, children…" Lockhart paused with a smile. "I'll go easy on your potions master, never fear!"

"Maybe they'll kill each other." Luna said quietly. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"That would be nice… but we're not that lucky," Ginny whispered back.

Abruptly, the two professors turned toward each other and bowed to each other. Or rather, Lockhart bowed, deeply like a courtier. Snape, on the other hand, merely dipped his head toward his colleague. They both then assumed a fighting position with their wands forward. "As you can see… first you bow to your opponent, and then you make ready for combat," Lockhart said unnecessarily. "On the count of three, we'll begin the duel."

Harry looked around at the crowd, immediately sensing that most of the students were feeling like he was: _if only one of them would kill the other._ Exactly just who each individual student was rooting to kill who apparently depended on their house, their potion's grade, and amazingly enough, whether they were male or female, it seemed.

"One! Two! Three!" As soon as Lockhart called out the third number, Snape was in motion. With surprising grace and speed, he made a quick series of moves with his wand and cried out "_Expelliarmus!"_ There was a bright red flash and suddenly Lockhart was blown backwards, off the platform and into the wall. The Defense instructor hadn't been able to even move before being struck by Snape's spell.

The students stared in silence at Lockhart, who was sprawled face down on the floor. Then, suddenly, a crowd of students, mostly Slytherins but surprisingly also Harry and his friends, gave out a loud cheer. The noise only died down when Lockhart first shifted one of his arms, then climbed unsteadily back to his feet.

"Ah… yes… er… well, there you have it… the Disarming Charm! I clearly…" Lockhart glanced around nervously, staring at the floor. "… Clearly don't have my wand any longer… ah, thank you Miss Brocklehurst, thank you." The Defense professor shook his head as he remounted the dueling platform. "Er… yes… excellent idea, Professor Snape. Excellent… showing them that first. Grand place to start, yes."

On the other end of the platform, Snape just glared. Lockhart didn't notice, of course, being too wrapped up in his own image. "Of course, it was fairly obvious, which is why I made no move to defend myself." His toothy grin once more lit his face. After a second, Lockhart seemed to notice Snape's killer stare. "All right, then… enough demonstrating. Let's… er… Professor Snape and I will now move among you and pair you up so you can practice together. If you would, Professor?"

Snape stared at him a moment, then nodded. "Certainly… _professor…"_ The Potions Master's voice seemed to drip with irony.

While Lockhart moved at seeming random, pairing up whichever students happened to be close together, Snape strode like a shark through the sea directly toward the six friends. He stood over them, staring at Harry with a nasty gleam in his eye. "Well… let's break up your little band… just for the excitement of seeing what happens."

With that, Professor Snape raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Within moments, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Marcus Flint, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle appeared at his elbow. "So… let's see… Parkinson and Lovegood, Bullstrode and Granger, Crabbe and Weasley, Flint and Longbottom… try not to kill him, Flint… Goyle with the other Weasley…" Snape looked directly at Ginny when he said this. "… And Malfoy, let's see what you make of Potter." The six friends looked at each other nervously. Hermione even went so far as to offer a kind smile to Millicent Bullstrode, but the larger girl merely stared. The other Slytherins stared at the Gryffindor six as if they were tigers in the zoo and the feeding bell had just been rung.

Back on the dueling platform, Lockhart called out, "Face your partners and bow!" Harry shrugged to his friends. He stared at Malfoy for a moment and then bowed. His eyes never left the other boy, though. One by one, the others bowed as well.

None of the Slytherins returned the courtesy.

Lockhart's voice echoed across the hall. "Wands at the ready!"

With practiced easy, Harry brought his want up and over his shoulder, pointing directly at Malfoy's chest. He shifted his feet so that his right foot was pointed aside and carrying his weight. The left he pointed forward, bent at the knee. He was ready to move when he needed to. Flint's eyes widened for a moment, and the seventh year looked to his Head of House. Snape's mouth was open in obvious shock, but the Potion's Master just nodded to his student.

Not wanting to take his eyes off of Malfoy for a moment, Harry forced himself not to glance at Ginny, but he heard her shift and knew that, like him, she was entering one of the five classic dueling positions. He had chosen the Turlington Offensive Position for its benefits to out-of-the-gate casting. Idly, he wondered if Ginny went with the Turlington, or maybe the Dimetrikov…

"Now… on the count of three cast your charms to disarm your opponent. Disarm only! The last thing any of you want to do is accidentally injure your partner!" At Lockhart's words, Draco Malfoy smirked and Harry immediately knew that, whatever spells Draco chose to cast, none would be _Expelliarmus._

"One! Two!"

Malfoy didn't wait for "three". The boy's wand came down and a silvery jet of light shot out of the end of his wand. Harry immediately waved his wand and thought, _Protego._ As his Shield Charm formed around him, harry jabbed his wand forward and thought, _Neresvite!_ Abruptly, the floor at Malfoy's feet erupted and black, ropy vines flew up to grab at the boy.

Malfoy struggled as the vines tightened around his arms. Harry lowered his wand and stepped back, feeling that it would be unsporting to attack while his foe was unable to respond. This proved to be a mistake, because Malfoy managed to point his wand at Harry and said "_Tarantallegra!"_ Immediately, Harry's legs began to jerk and bounce in some sort of demented tap-dances. In return, Harry waved a wand at Draco. The boy's pale blond hair lengthened and wrapped itself around Malfoy's eyes, blocking his vision.

"STOP! I said disarm only! What do you think… STOP, I said!" Lockhart yelled as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Snape watched the other professor approach before turning his attention back to the fights in front of him.

"_Finite Incantatem!" _Snape said, pointing his wand at Malfoy; immediately, the vines released the boy's arms and his hair shortened to its natural length. The Potions Master stood over Harry for a moment before repeating the charm. Harry's legs stopped dancing around as he looked around, amazed at the chaos that had erupted in the Great Hall. A greenish cloud of smoke hovered over the crowd, obscuring the enchanted ceiling. Both Neville and Flint were lying on their backs, seemingly unconscious. Millicent Bullstrode had Hermione in a headlock; the smaller girl was continually, but ineffectively, banging a fist on the arm restraining her head. Luna sat next to Pansy Parkinson on the floor, and both girls were nursing bloody noses.

On the other hand, Ginny was sitting on the chest of an obviously unconscious Gregory Goyle, and was busily changing the color of his skin, hair, and robes to crimson and gold, while Ron had Vincent Crabbe floating in the air in front of him by one heel. Snape moved through the group, releasing spells as he went and _Ennervating _Goyle, Neville, and Marcus Flint. He waved his wand at Pansy Parkinson, healing her nose, but left Luna's bleeding. And when he got to Ron Weasley, Snape stopped and simply stared.

"Is anything wrong, Professor?" Ron's eyes were hooded.

After a moment, Snape turned away. He gazed on the Gryffindor Six with a sneer and said, "Ten points from Gryffindor, each, for failure in following directions."Professor Lockhart said to disarm only, and none of you listened. And ten more points from Miss Weasley, for casting beyond the bounds of the lesson. Return Goyle to his correct coloration this instant."

Ginny began to open her mouth when Harry tapped her on the shoulder. He nodded toward the gem-filled hour glasses. She glanced at them, and then turned back to Harry, confused. Quietly, he whispered, _"No points were deducted… he called you by the wrong name and no points were deducted."_

She smiled as she turned back to Professor Snape. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't know the counter-charm… we haven't learned that one yet."

Snape fumed. He was about to say something when Lockhart interjected. "I think we'd better teach you students how to _block_ unfriendly spells. What say, Professor? That should cut down on the incidence of violence." Lockhart looked and sounded flustered, and was obviously trying to regain some control over the situation.

"Let's have a volunteer pair…" The Defense professor scanned the crowd of students. "How about… Longbottom… yes, and you… what was your name again, boy?"

A startled Hufflepuff spoke up. "Finch-Fletchley, sir… Justin…"

"Ah, excellent… yes, so let's the two of you," Lockhart began.

"Professor… There's no telling what would happen to Finch-Fletchley if we allow Longbottom to point his wand at him. The boy's a menace. If I might suggest… how about Potter and Malfoy… they seemed to be well-matched, from what I just saw," Snape interrupted with a twisted smile.

"Excellent!" Lockhart exclaimed as he pushed the two boys toward the dueling platform.

"Kick his ass sideways, Harry," Neville muttered as Harry walked passed. Harry grinned at his friend, and then looked to the others for encouragement. All were cheering him on, except for Ron, who just looked angry. Harry could understand the sentiment… the entire thing smelled like a set-up.

Once Harry was in position at the end of the dueling platform, Lockhart leaned over to give him some advice. "Now, Harry… when Malfoy points his wand at you, you do this…" The Defense professor gave his wand an odd sort of wiggle. Harry could barely suppress a snort as the Defense instructor dropped his wand. "Ah, yes… that shows you the benefit of properly waxing and polishing your wand, you see… without it the natural oils of your skin can make it a bit slippery," Lockhart looked sheepish as he quickly picked his wand back up.

Professor Snape was kneeling beside Malfoy, whispering into the boy's ear. Malfoy merely smirked and nodded. Harry had no idea what it was that Snape was saying, but knew in his gut that it wasn't a good thing for him. He quickly called an array of combat spells to mind; several he discarded immediately. The last thing Harry wanted to do was burn Malfoy to a cinder from the inside, or cause his innards to erupt from his body, or turn him to stone… _Well actually, _Harry thought to himself, _I'd love to do all that to the git… but not here, and not now. No… I'll wait until Voldemort has the castle surrounded and Malfoy sneaks in to get me and Ginny…_

Malfoy noticed Harry's blank stare and smirked again. "Scared, Potter?"

"You wish," Harry spat in reply.

"Don't worry, Potter… I'll take care of your trollop and the Mudblood for you once you're gone," Malfoy nodded his head toward Ginny and Hermione.

Harry's grin was the dark, dangerous kind that sharks typically displayed. "As long as you don't go crying to your mum when I spank you in front of all these people, Draco."

Lockhart patted Harry on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Now…" He and Professor Snape stepped off the platform. "One, two, three… begin!" he shouted.

Harry, half expecting Malfoy to jump the gun again, was already in motion. He side-stepped and brought up his _Protego _shield. Draco, on the other hand, loudly bellowed, _"Serpensortia!"_ A long, vicious-looking cobra exploded from the end of Malfoy's wand and landed in the middle of the platform. It angrily raised its head and spread its hood, ready to strike. The assembled students began to yell and scream as they madly scrambled away from the deadly reptile.

"Potter, Malfoy… don't move!" Snape looked truly alarmed as he stepped forward, but it was Lockhart who acted first.

"I'll get it, Severus!" Lockhart waved his wand at the snake, and it was launched abruptly into the air. The cobra bounced none-too-gently off of the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling before landing at the feet of Justin Finch-Fletchley. The reptile immediately reared back with its fangs exposed, ready to bite its unwitting victim.

Harry ran forward as quickly as he could and shouted, _Stop! I command you to stop! Leave him alone!"_ Immediately, the cobra turned toward Harry. Its bead-like eyes seemed to bore into him for a moment, but then it slithered back a few feet. The snake turned back to Justin just once and hissed at him, baring its fangs, but then turned quickly back to Harry.

"What the hell are you playing at, Potter?" Justin's voice quavered with fear. Harry merely stared at the Hufflepuff boy in shock and confusion. _The snake's not going to attack… it's just sitting there, for Merlin's sake!_ Harry thought to himself. _Why's he so angry at me? He's not bitten or anything!_ Abruptly, the Hufflepuff turned and stormed out of the Great Hall. He was quickly followed by the rest of Hufflepuff House, nearly all of whom gave Harry withering glances as they left.

Harry was so involved in watching the Hufflepuff exodus that when the snake abruptly vanished in a puff of smoke, he jerked backwards visibly. He glanced toward Professor Snape and was surprised to see the Potions Master staring back at him. However, the look on Snape's face wasn't its usual, casual hatred, but was rather one of shrewd calculation… as if Snape was seeing Harry for the first time, ever. Lockhart, too, was staring at Harry, but in shock and horror. Harry slowly became aware of the crowd of students around the dueling platform. They were muttering amongst each other, and all of them were staring at him. He turned, extremely uncomfortable from all the attention, when his eyes finally found Ginny. Ginny's face didn't display fright, or shock, or awe like everyone else's… she was concerned, and sad.

There was a tug at Harry's elbow. "Come on… let's go…" It was Neville. The other boy carefully led Harry down the steps from the platform, where Ginny immediately stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. The two of them, Neville and Ginny, steered Harry out of the Hall. They were followed by the other members of the Gryffindor six. As they walked, the people around them backed away, as if they were frightened of something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on, and no one answered any of his questions until they all were safely ensconced in the Gryffindor common room.

Ginny sat on the long couch and pulled Harry down to lie with his head in her lap. The look of concern never left her face as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. Neville pulled four padded chairs over, allowing the six of them to sit facing each other. There was no sound for the longest time, other than Ginny's gently "shushing" of Harry. But finally, it was Luna who spoke.

"So… a Parselmouth," she said. "That will certainly go a long way in ending the speculation that he's the Heir of Slytherin." Her voice was completely free of irony, but everyone felt it. Ron even let out a small laugh before quickly silencing himself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Neville asked.

Harry was still confused. "Tell you what?"

"That you were a Parselmouth, of course!" Hermione interjected. "Why didn't you say anything to anyone?"

"Wait… I thought you knew… I'm sure I told you…" Harry turned on the couch, giving Ginny access to the other side of his head.

"I knew, of course. I don't think the rest of them did, love," Ginny said. Harry just nodded.

"Everyone's going to think you were trying to get the snake to attack Justin, you know. After all, only Dark Wizards are Parselmouths, and there's no reason a Dark Wizard would command a snake to stop attacking…" Ron mused.

"I told it to stop and leave him alone, I swear." Harry muttered. His eyes were beginning to droop.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, well… we'll see." He stood abruptly and stretched. "I'm going to bed. Night all."

"I swear… I tol' it t'stop," Harry muttered. The adrenalin was leaving his system, and with its loss his body was beginning to go into shut-down mode.

"We know, Harry," Luna assured him. Harry nodded vaguely, and within moments was asleep on Ginny's lap. She made no move to disturb or dislodge him, but rather turned her attention back to her three friends.

She kept her voice low, so as to not disturb her husband. "So… what are we going to do about this? The entire school is afraid of him now." Ginny sighed deeply. "Did you know that Harry was almost sorted into Slytherin?"

There were shocked looks all around. "Harry's the ultimate Gryffindor! How could the Hat have ever considered him in Slytherin House?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry's relatives have spent his entire life telling him he's useless and a burden. Harry desperately wants to prove that he's not worthless… he wants to show that he's worth something. That's ambition… and Slytherin is about cunning and ambition, no matter how many times Ron says it's about evil and ruthlessness."

"I think we can downplay this," Neville said. "Harry can go to Justin and explain what happened to him, personally. We'll help him out… I'm sure Justin won't be as skittish if we approach him at breakfast or something and explain that Harry was trying to help him rather than hurt him."

Hermione had been quiet during the entire discussion. "It has never made sense to me why some magical gifts are considered Dark and others are considered not Dark. It seems like just another silly superstition," Hermione said finally. She glanced at Luna, smiled, and added, "Like thinking that a Snorkack can be held off by tying a bundle of asparagus in your window, when it's a proven fact that they are repulsed by bananas." At the sound of everyone's laughter, Harry stirred. They immediately stopped, hoping to let him sleep. When he didn't wake, they went back to smiling at each other.

Neville coughed quietly and said, "The longer you hang around Luna, the more she rubs off on you, Hermione."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" At Hermione's raised eyebrow, Neville blushed.

XxxxxxX

Unfortunately, finding Justin Finch-Fletchley the next morning proved more difficult than they expected. During the night, a light snowfall had turned into a raging blizzard, and as a result, Herbology classes were canceled. The six wandered the castle, looking for the boy, but every time they thought they were getting close, someone other Hufflepuff would intercede. Apparently word had spread that Harry was looking for Justin, and word was that it was for no good purpose. After hours of fruitless searching, five of the six had encamped in the library. Ron, as usual, had expressed an allergy to books and left to find some other amusement.

Surprisingly, it was Luna who initially began the discussion about Gryffindor's Quidditch practices. It was her intention to attend every one, and wanted Hermione and Neville to go with her. It was, in her own words, "A good way to show House spirit in a way that doesn't require you to be a nearly-decapitated ghost!" The solemn expression on Luna's face when she said this had made Hermione giggle, something that she wasn't in the habit of doing, regularly. While she had been exasperated by the blonde girl in the beginning, Hermione had to admit that, as time went on, Luna had grown on her. And when Luna smiled at her, she felt a warm flush in her face and an odd stirring in her middle she wasn't really sure about. It was enough, however, to make Hermione want to be around Luna as much as possible.

"All right… I'll go watch the practices with you," Hermione said at last. "As long as I get to bring a book to read in case I get too bored."

"Of course… I would no more separate you from your books than you would separate a moon frog from its spots." Luna leaned in and gave Hermione a quick hug.

"Well, we'll have to ask Wood, of course… I don't know how keen he'll be on people watching the practices. He'll probably think you're spying for Slytherin or something." Ginny chuckled.

"I'll just have to come with you, then. He can't think someone who tried out for the team is a spy, can he?" Neville asked. He looked at Hermione and smiled, causing her to blush. She had found that, when she was around the boy, there was a strange intensity in the air that was very interesting and different. The same warm flush happened to her when she looked into Neville's eyes as when Luna smiled at her, and the stirring returned.

"Wood's a bit of a nutter when it comes to Quidditch." Harry added. "Speaking of, Ginny and I need to go and talk to him… he wants to talk to all the players about Ron missing practices. He's thinking about dropping Ron from the roster and I want to talk him out of it." Harry held a hand out for Ginny and the pair left the library.

The mention of Ron caused Hermione to suddenly feel sad for some reason. She wasn't sure what was going on with the boy, but she could feel their relationship slowly falling apart. Ron was the second person at Hogwarts to befriend her, and the thought of his drifting away caused a lump to form in her throat.

Something of her feelings must have shown, because she soon found her left hand being grasped by Luna, and her right by Neville. Hermione looked to both of her friends and smiled at the warmth of their friendship.

"Everything all right?" Neville asked.

Hermione nodded. "Just thinking… I just…" She found she couldn't explain it clearly.

"Was it a scary thought, or a sad thought?" Luna gave her hand a squeeze. "My mother always said that the two worst kind of thoughts… the ones that make you cry most often… are scary thoughts and sad thoughts. She also told me the best way to fight them off was peppermint ice cream." There was a pause, during which Luna leaned forward to look at Neville. "Neville, do you have any peppermint ice cream?"

"Sorry… I don't think I do…" Neville said with a laugh.

"Oh." Luna's face fell. The blonde girl turned to Hermione, and for the first time ever, her friends saw a frown on Luna's face. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but we seem to be out of peppermint ice cream. Would you like it if Neville were to give you a hug? Perhaps you might like him to give you a kiss on the forehead, as well?" Hermione just gaped, while Neville began to sputter, and it was enough to give Luna a case of the giggles.

Hermione glared at the girl, and then giggled herself. She straightened up and smiled at Neville. "Go on then…"

"What?" Neville gasped. He blushed as Hermione's eyes met his, but he didn't look away. With exaggerated care, the boy leaned forward and hugged her, an act that was gratefully returned. He straightened up, swallowed visibly, and then leaned forward to give her a quick buss on the forehead.

It wasn't a very gentle kiss, or a very long one, and resulted in Hermione's eyes being abruptly covered by a wave of her own hair. Hermione pushed her hand through her hair, moving it away from her face. Controlling her thick locks was a never-ending battle that she often had no hope of winning. "Why thank you, kind sir!" she said. Neville beamed at Hermione as she ran her hand through her hair again. "I should just cut this short. Perhaps get it taken up above my ears."

She stopped when she saw Neville's face. "What? What did I say?"

"Cut your hair short? Hermione… that's… only women who…" Neville blushed, unable to continue. "You have to have long hair, Hermione… people will… they'll _think _things about you if you have short hair. Bad things… like you're a woman with no manners… uncouth, or something." His voice dropped to a whisper. "_Bar-maids… and… and… ladies of easy virtue…"_

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione was shocked and outraged. In all her research on the Wizarding world before coming to Hogwarts, this was the first she'd heard of any sartorial customs. She knew there were parts that still would be considered Victorian, but this was ridiculous. She gave Luna the eye, but the blonde girl merely shrugged and fluffed out her own hair… which Hermione suddenly noticed hung almost to the middle of Luna's back.

"Well, yeah… haven't you ever wondered why all the girls have long hair? The only girl with short hair I know of is Lydia Danforth… you know, the sixth year Slytherin girl? And…" Neville leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered. "… _I heard that she has a tattoo on her leg._"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh my, a tattoo… what will ever become of her?"

Neville missed the irony and nodded. "I know, right? It's because…"

Before he could say anything else, a shadow fell over the trio. "Longbottom! We need a word…" The three friends turned as one. Daphne Greengrass and Guy Beaumont were standing over their table, looking nervous and impatient.

The silence that followed could have been cut by a knife. The two Slytherin students fidgeted a moment. "Er… Hello, Granger. Er… Lovegood." It was Daphne Greengrass who spoke. "Longbottom… Neville… We need to discuss this 'Heir of Slytherin' thing with you. Can you spare a moment?"

Neville stood, casting a nervous glance toward Hermione and Luna, and faced the Slytherins. "Do you want to talk to just me, or to all three of us? Because I'm not sure I want to go off alone with a pair of Slytherins right now… I know how you all feel about Harry, especially what with everything that's going on…"

"Is that so? Think we're going to slice you into gobbets or something, do you, now?" Guy Beaumont said. His face was carefully expressionless, but his eyes glittered. He was about to say something else when Daphne held up a hand. Instead of speaking, Beaumont closed his mouth and stood silent.

"Neville..." she said after a moment. "Do all people in Gryffindor feel the same way about everything? No? Then why should all Slytherin? We just want to talk about what's going on." She smiled at him. "If you can't trust a childhood playmate, who can you trust, Nev…"

Neville thought about it and nodded. "Of course we don't all feel the same way, and you're right… we've known each other since we were what… three? If I can't trust you when you ask me to trust you… Come on, sit… " Neville gestured to the empty chairs at the table, and the new arrivals carefully slid into them. For a moment, everyone sat in awkward silence as everyone thought about what they wanted to say.

After several minutes, Neville couldn't stand it any longer. "So, Daphne… we're all here. What's going on?" he asked.

"Well, as I am sure you're aware, whoever killed the Caretaker and the Muggle boy left a message."

"We know," Hermione interrupted. "_'The Chamber has been opened. Enemies of the Heir Beware'._ We figure it refers to the Heir of Slytherin. His enemies would be the Muggle-born here at the school and elsewhere."

Daphne studied Hermione carefully before nodding. "That's what we thought as well. My question, though, is… would you have any idea who the Heir might be?"

XxxxxxX

Later that evening, a lone person sped through the castle's halls as quickly as he dared, given the lack of visibility. As he rushed back toward the Hufflepuff dorms, Justin Finch-Fletchley couldn't shake the creepy feeling. The castle, so warm and inviting when he started school last year, had become somehow cold and scary. He knew it was probably only his imagination, but it seemed as if the shadows were conspiring to creep closer and closer to him.

He hadn't meant to be out so late… just a quick jaunt up to the owlery and back just before curfew. But the ruddy school bird wouldn't cooperate, and kept jumping around. It had taken him a full twenty minutes to get his letter to his parents tied to the stupid bird's leg, and then another two minutes just to shoo it out the window. _Next year, I'm going to have my own owl if it kills me! _It was only now, as he raced as quickly as he could through the shadowy corridors of the castle, that he wished he'd phrased his promise to himself differently.

He rounded a corner without looking and yelled as he almost ran into someone coming the other way. The other person was nothing but a shadowy figure in the darkness, and Justin was so surprised he skidded on the corridor's cobblestones and landed on his rear. As he scrabbled backward, he jabbed his wand toward the shadow-covered person in near panic. _"Lu-lu-mos. Lumos!"_ he finally managed to say.

The tip of his wand exploded into bright, blue-white light, revealing a face he recognized. Justin put a hand to his chest and tried to slow his breathing. "Oh… it's just you… you're Weasley, right?"

"That's right. I'm Weasley. You're Justin Finch-Fletchley." Ron nodded as he stepped forward, out of the shadows and gave a hand pulling the other boy to his feet. "Let me give you a hand up."

"Thanks… I appreciate it. I got caught in the owlery and missed curfew." Justin waited expectantly as his unspoken question hung in the air.

Ron's eyes suddenly widened, as he suddenly realized he needed to provide a response. "Oh… I… er… I was sneaking back from the kitchens…" The redhead shrugged. "If you ask nicely, the House Elves will give you extra desserts, and I was hungry, you see, so…"

Justin relaxed immediately. "That's brilliant… I don't even know where the entrance to the kitchens is located. Maybe you can show me some time." He looked around, making sure no prefect or teacher was approaching. "I suppose I'm just jumpy. I mean, who could possibly have expected Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin, yeah?"

Ron smiled at Justin, causing the Muggle-born boy to shiver unaccountably. The smile scared him for some reason. "Funny you should mention the Heir of Slytherin…"

XxxxxxX


	14. The Deep Breath Before The Plunge

**Chapter 14: **_**T**__**he Deep Breath Before The Plunge**_

_Earlier…_

Daphne studied Hermione carefully before nodding. "That's what we thought as well. My question, though, is… would you have any idea who the Heir might be?"

Neville looked to Hermione, who shrugged and raised an eyebrow. He shifted his gaze to Luna, whose expression of mild interest never shifted. The boy's brow crinkled as he pursed his mouth at her. She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Well… we don't know who the Heir is, but we know who it isn't. It isn't Harry Potter," he said, turning back to Daphne Greengrass.

"Yeah, we figured you'd say that." The boy who accompanied Greengrass, Guy Beaumont, chuckled. "Is that something you feel, something you think, or something you know?"

"It's something we know!" Hermione was adamant.

Beaumont eyed Hermione with a sneer and opened his mouth to reply. He paused before speaking and shut his mouth. After a moment of consideration, he asked, "How?"

"Ginevra Potter. You only think you understand what's going on between her and Harry Potter. Their relationship is much more than some noblesse oblige political arrangement by Harry, as you seem to think, Miss Greengrass. And it's not a contract forced on Harry as a method for the Weasleys to climb up the social ladder, as you seem to believe, Mister Beaumont. They really, truly love each other. That's why they are together. Not for politics, not for money. For love."

"No member of the Twelve Families marries just for love." Greengrass rolled her eyes, visibly and with intent. "There's always politics behind such things. A child is too important a resource to squander by marrying them off to nobodies and peasants." She explained it as if speaking to a two-year-old. "Potter's parents would have started receiving offers the moment he was born. There's no way…"

"Harry's dad married for love," Neville said quietly. "He was enough of a rebel against the old traditions to do that; do you think he'd tie Harry down from childhood?" He shrugged expressively. "It happens sometimes that the children of the Twelve Families are free to marry whom they choose. My parents didn't contract me to anyone either."

"We're getting a little off-subject here," Hermione interjected. "The point is, if Harry was the Heir of Slytherin… if he was sneaking out at night and attacking the Muggle-born, Ginny would have noticed by now and said something about it."

"Are you sure? She might be working with him to…"

"No." Neville cut Beaumont off. "She wouldn't. And besides, Harry's mother was a Muggle-born. Everybody knows that. And he wouldn't be friends with Hermione here if he were the Heir… Muggle-born, remember?"

"What if it were the Weasley girl, then? Would he help cover it up if it were her?" Beaumont's question was almost an accusation.

"Ginny Potter? The Heir of Slytherin? Mate, you're off your gourd if you could possibly think that Ginny could ever attack Muggle-born," Hermione laughed. "I mean… really… Ginny sneaking out late at night to attack lone students after curfew, smearing messages on the walls in blood… and managing to keep everyone in the dark all year?" She snorted at the very thought. "Sounds like the plot of a bad novel."

"Yes, well… we had to ask. Everyone heard him speak Parseltongue…" Daphne said after a moment. "So… do you know anything, then?"

Both Neville and Luna looked to Hermione, who sighed. "Well, we know what the Chamber of Secrets is supposed to be, but not where it is. I found that much out from research in the library. We know that there's supposed to be a monster hidden in it, but not what. We actually got Professor Binns off the Goblin Wars long enough to get him to tell us the legend." She paused for a moment before continuing, "And after the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match… while he was in the Hospital Wing… a house-elf named Dropsy or Droopy or Dobby or something told Harry that the Chamber had been opened before. And someone was killed then, too."

"A house-elf told Potter what now?" Beaumont asked in surprise. "One of the Hogwart's elves? They don't ever approach the students…"

Daphne Greengrass's eyes were suddenly hooded and thin. "Did you say the elf's name was Dobby?" Hermione nodded, and Daphne continued, "Malfoy has a house-elf named Dobby. Last time my mother and I visited, Draco took great pains to show off his new 'toy' and how much control he had over the little beast."

Neville was almost jumping up and down at this point. "Malfoy! I knew it was him! He's the heir! He has to be! How else would his elf know to…?"

"No, Neville… Malfoy's not smart enough to keep this quiet. If he was behind the attacks, someone would have heard about it by now and said something. Plus, there's the entire 'I'm a Christmas tree ornament' incident in the Great Hall." Luna said in a sing-song voice. "I know everyone else thinks that was just a prank by the Weasley Twins, but personally I think his being strung up with Crabbe and Goyle was because of the Heir. Either that, or there's something going on between the three of them that I don't particularly like to think about." She stared at Hermione and Neville for a moment before adding "Now, if it were some other three individuals…"

Everyone around her blushed, even the Slytherins.

"Right… well… I can tell you that it's not Draco. He's as clueless about it as everyone else, it seems. I overheard him talking to Crabbe and Goyle. Well, not talking. Yelling, really," Beaumont said. "They apparently annoyed him by constantly asking him if he knew."

"Yeah, but if it was his house-elf who warned Harry… he has to know _something_ about what's going on, right?" At Neville's question, everyone nodded. "So how do we find out what he knows?"

Guy Beaumont looked to Daphne Greengrass, who shrugged and looked back at Neville. "Guy and I cornered him before coming here. All he knows is that fifty years ago, someone opened the Chamber of Secrets and a Muggle girl was killed. They almost closed the school before someone was arrested."

"Who?" Hermione prompted.

"Hagrid, the ground-keeper. He was a fifth year student at the time," Beaumont said. "The head boy caught him with the monster from the Chamber and turned him over to the Aurors."

"Dumbledore apparently stepped in and kept him out of Azkaban, but they still expelled him and broke his wand." Greengrass looked a bit nauseous. "To think that the Headmaster let's a killer stomp around the grounds like that."

"Hagrid?" The very thought scandalized Hermione. "But… he's never… no… there's no way it was really Hagrid. He wouldn't harm a fly. If Dumbledore kept him on as grounds-keeper, it must mean that the Headmaster doesn't believe he's guilty."

"I'm just telling you what I found out from Draco, Granger," Daphne said. "I'm not making it up. Last time the Chamber was opened, Hagrid was arrested."

"I simply won't believe it. It has to be someone else…"

"Yes, well…" Daphne stood, motioning her companion that it was time to leave. "I'll keep my ear out, Neville… if I hear something, I'll get in touch. You do the same, okay?" Neville only nodded. "Nice talking to you again, Nev."

XxxxxxX

Guy Beaumont waited until the two of them were out of the library before turning on Daphne Greengrass. "Okay, tell me again why we're getting chummy with the Gryffs?"

"Because, you brick… Potter is a rising force in this school. You know it, I know it, and everyone but Draco knows it."

"Yeah? And?"

Greengrass sighed. "So if he's going to be so influential, it will be a good idea to be on his good side. Show him and his fellow Gryffs that not all of the snakes are Death Eaters in training."

"Death Eaters in… are you daft? The Death Eaters are gone! You Know Who is dead! Potter killed him, remember? What are you going on about, Death Eaters?" Beaumont asked.

"Haven't you ever asked why it is that Draco has such a mad on for Potter? I mean, beyond being humiliated in a duel by his girl, or whatever happened on the train." She stopped them in the empty hallway, and scanned up and down before speaking again. "He started in on Potter since the moment Scarhead stepped into this school. There's got to be an agenda there, and the only one I can imagine is something connected to the fact that Draco's dad was a Death Eater."

Beaumont nodded. "Yeah… he was under the _Imperius_."

Greengrass rolled her eyes. "And if you believe that, I've got a nice swamp in Derbyshire I'm willing to sell you for a song."

XxxxxxX

_Later…_

He ran as if Satan himself were snapping at his heels.

Since the arrival of his letter and the discovery that he was a wizard and that all those odd events in his childhood meant something, Justin had never been more thankful than now that he had grown up amongst the non-magical. When he didn't have a chance to use his wand, a wizard was useless in a fight because he had no idea what to do. Six years of Exeter, as a run-up to Eton College and then eventually Oxford University… the plan of Justin's life before discovering his magical nature… had included physical education classes.

Physical education classes at Exeter Boarding School meant boxing lessons, among other things like calisthenics and swimming and rugby.

He didn't think about it as he ran… all he knew was that the Gryffindor boy, Weasley, was trying to kill him, and that he made the barest of escapes through the expedience of putting a left jab into the red-headed boy's face. It had worked, and for a moment Justin had been tempted to show Weasley the rest of his boxing knowledge… but then the other boy had started hissing, just like Potter had done at the Dueling Club. There was a strange rustling noise from the darkness, and Justin knew the last place he wanted to be was where he was when the thing making the noise arrived.

So he ran. Ran for his life.

He had never realized before how many empty and disused classrooms there were at Hogwarts. Somewhere in the back of his mind (the part not occupied by running or navigating through the darkened corridor or simply being terrified), he had a vague thought that the population of Hogwarts must have once been much greater than its current student body.

"You… you, in the painting…" Justin gasped for air. He stumbled to the only portrait in the hall and half-collapsed against the frame. "Please! Can you find a teacher for me! Any teacher. Dumbledore! McGonagall! Anyone!"

The gentleman in the portrait, an older man dressed like a Regency-era nobleman, looked wide-eyed at the Hufflepuff boy, before nodding. "What troubles you, boy?"

"No time… he's still after me, I know it. Just get help." Justin glanced back and ducked just in time to be missed by the line of purple fire that slammed into the painting, sheering it and the man inside of it in half. His eyes bugging out, Justin ran again.

He rounded another corner, not stopping even when he ran completely through the ethereal body of a ghost. Belatedly, he realized it was the Gryffindor knight, Sir Nicholas. As he ran, he heard the spirit say "I say… it's rude to just run through one of us like that… come back here and… oh, Weasley… what are you…" the ghost's words were cut off abruptly, and Justin wondered for a moment what could have shut Sir Nicholas up with such finality.

Justin stumbled down another staircase and fell when he hit the bottom. A chuckle from behind scraped its way across Justin's nerves as he scrambled back to his feet. The boy gave a quick glance behind him, and turned to run again. There, ahead of him at the end of the hall, was salvation and safety: Dumbledore was walking with a group of other men.

"Professor! Professor Dumbledore!" Just never felt more relieved in his life to see his headmaster.

XxxxxxX

The Heir of Slytherin stopped, keeping to the shadows at the top of the staircase. _Dumbledore… of course, it would be, wouldn't it,_ he thought to himself. Thinking fast, he turned and hissed a dismissal to his servant. It was dangerous to have the basilisk with him this deep in the castle in any case… he was getting to close to the busier areas of the castle… even at this hour, the professors were constantly creeping around the more central areas of Hogwarts, and it wouldn't do for it to be discovered that the Weasley boy was the "heir". At least not yet.

_What to do… what to do… ah…_ With a smile that looked more predatory than jovial, the Heir snuck to the bottom of the staircase. He waited until the Mudblood who had dare strike him with his hands had almost reached the Headmaster…

XxxxxxX

"And I am telling you, Dumbledore… he is the only suspect! He caused that girl to get killed…" Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, took his green bowler from his head and daubed a green silk handkerchief on his forehead. "I cannot simply sit back and let what has happened happen without some reaction. The public expects their children to be safe, and the ministry cannot simply sit back and let things go." He replaced his handkerchief back in his pocket, gave his Auror escort a quick glance, and put his bowler back on his head. "His record is against him; after all… he was the last person to open the Chamber of Secrets."

Albus Dumbledore took a deep, slow breath through his nose and let it out just as slowly. It was a quick and easy method of calming himself that took far less concentration than Occulemency. "Cornelius, I am not convinced of that. In truth, I never have been.

Fudge visibly rolled his eyes. "Yes, I read the case record. You managed to keep him out of prison, and hired him as your gamekeeper and handyman immediately after his expulsion. You fought the Ministry's investigation into Hagrid the entire way. I assure you, Headmaster… it will be you the public will blame if you hinder us here. The public want someone arrested for these deaths, and the logical person is the last person to open the Chamber."

"He is innocent until proven guilty, Cornelius; innocent until proven guilty. He wasn't convicted of killing anyone then, he won't be now." Dumbledore fumed.

"Yes, I read that as well. He was expelled for keeping a potentially dangerous creature in the castle, against school rules. Well, there won't be any of that sort of folderol this time."

"And I tell you again, Cornelius… I have every reason to believe that the accusations against Hagrid were made solely to throw suspicion off of another student."

Cornelius stopped walking and stared, dumbfounded, at the headmaster. "You think he was framed?" The man gave a cynical chuckle. "By who, Dumbledore? Who would go to all the trouble of framing a sub-literate like your groundskeeper for murder?" He continued walking as Dumbledore never slowed.

"Do you remember Tom Riddle, Cornelius? I do believe you were a student here before he finished." Dumbledore asked.

"Riddle? He was Head Boy my second year." Fudge snorted. "I remember my housemates being rather proud of his being named Head Boy. The first Slytherin Head Boy in nearly twenty years. What does he have to do with the Chamber and the murders?"

"I believe, Cornelius, that it was Tom Riddle and not Rubeus Hagrid that opened the chamber the first time," Dumbledore said slowly. "I believe that it was Tom Riddle who killed that poor girl."

"And what evidence do you have to support that conclusion?"

"I have no true evidence, Cornelius… just a belief. But I do base my belief on actions the man in question took later, long after he left Hogwarts." Dumbledore paused before dropping the figurative bomb on the minister. "Tom Riddle is, of course, the real name of Lord Voldemort." At the sound of the name, the two Aurors and the Minister of Magic all flinched visibly. "If I recall correctly, Cornelius… you were rather chummy with the Head Boy during your second year. He was your Charms tutor, was he not?"

Fudge stared at Dumbledore, his face going from pasty pink to red to fuchsia in less than a second. "And what are you implying, Headmaster?"

"I imply nothing, Minister. I am just making an observation." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe that Voldemort opened the Chamber the last time, and that Voldemort killed Myrtle Malone. I am sure that, after the investigation is complete, we will find Voldemort's presence in the cause of the deaths of Argus Filch and Colin Creevey." The headmaster sighed as he witnessed the two fully trained Aurors and the Minister of Magic flinch for a second time.

"You-Know-Who is dead! The Potter boy defeated him eleven years ago! There isn't any possible way he could have killed Filch and the Muggle boy," Fudge yelled.

"I did not say he committed the murders himself. I simply believe that, when this is finished, we will find him involved in some way. What way, I don't know for sure. But I trust that he is involved entirely as much as I trust that Hagrid isn't," Dumbledore proclaimed.

"Yes, well… we shall see…" Fudge said after a long moment. "You have no proof that You-Know-Who is involved at all, much less is somehow reaching out from the grave to kill Squibs and the Muggle-born."

"I must admit that you are correct, Cornelius, as much as I hate doing it." The headmaster smiled, grimly. After a long silence, he added, "And believe me, I do hate it."

"Professor! Professor Dumbledore!"

All four men jumped at the sudden intrusive voice. The two Aurors had their wands drawn in an instant and whirled, looking for a threat. Justin Finch-Fletchley skidded to a sudden stop in front of them, his eyes wide in fear as he realized he was held under two wands.

XxxxxxX

Justin Finch-Fletchley skidded to a sudden stop in front of them, his eyes wide in fear as he realized he was held under two wands. He stared at the wands, truly wondering if he had escaped the frying pan only to fall into the cooking fire.

Dumbledore stepped forward, pressing the Aurors' wand-arms down. "Auror Dawlish, Auror Lumley, Mister Finch-Fletchley here is one of my brightest students. I assure you he's no threat, despite being out in violation of curfew…" He turned to Justin and smiled. "So… Mister Finch-Fletchley… what has you out this late, and why are you so very out of breath?"

The boy took a deep breath. "Thank you, Headmaster…" He leaned over for a moment, leaning on his own knees in order to catch his breath. He looked behind him, only seeing the shadows in the corridor. "He was chasing… the Heir of Slytherin… he was…" He took another deep breath, and suddenly he was floating. Justin straightened up, his breathing getting easier as a feeling of tranquility and peace came over him… it was almost like he was floating.

"The Heir of… Mister Finch… Justin… are you telling me that you were chased by the Heir? You know who it is?" Dumbledore asked.

"He's knows who has behind the killings?" Fudge stepped forward and grabbed Justin by the shoulder. "Tell us, boy! Who's after you? Who's been committing murder at Hogwarts?"

Justin nodded to the Minister. No problem there… he was going to tell Professor Dumbledore who was chasing him anyway… the little voice in the back of his head was whispering to him, letting him know what to do and what to say… it was comforting, even, having that voice speaking to him. "I saw his face… Headmaster, I know I was out after curfew… I thought I could mail a letter in time and was…"

"That's not important, boy!" Fudge yelled, shaking Justin by the shoulder. "Who was it? Tell us!"

"Minister, I cannot have you man-handling my students." He gently pulled Justin out of Fudge's grasp. "Now… Mister Finch-Fletchley… please tell us who has been chasing you."

Justin listened to the voice in his head for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, sir. It was Professor Lockhart… he was chasing me. He called himself the Heir of Slytherin… he tried to attack me. I only just got away and ran… its only luck that I found you, sir."

Justin turned his eyes to the Minister of Magic. "The Heir of Slytherin is Gilderoy Lockhart."

XxxxxxX

The Heir of Slytherin slipped away into the shadows, using his knowledge of the school's secret passages and hidden through-ways to make it to Gryffindor Tower unseen by anyone. As he walked, he chuckled to himself. It was a low, evil sound that would have made anyone who heard it nervous. _Well… not killing the Mudblood twit is disappointing, but he served his purpose, and might serve an even bigger one in the future,_ the Heir thought to himself. _An Imperiused servant is more useful than a dead servant, after all. Even if he is a stinking Mudblood._

The thought of what was about to happen to that idiot ponce who called himself a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher caused him to stop in his tracks and literally force himself not to laugh out loud. _Serves that queenie bastard right… to think that he and I both attended the same House at this school…_

He continued on his way, content that by morning, all attention would be deflected from his host, and that strutting peacock Lockhart would no longer be a constant annoyance. And fewer annoyances were always a good thing.


	15. The Board Is Set

Chapter 15: The Board Is Set

No one knew he was there.

This was, of course, exactly how he wanted it. Several decades prior, during the early days of his tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore had discovered that sometimes it was a very useful thing to be able to observe the students without them ever becoming aware that he was observing them. Today, it was most important that they not be aware he was there. More important than any other thing Dumbledore could think of at the moment, it was very important that Harry Potter and his circle of friends, the so-called "Gryffindor Six", plus a handful of other students, did not know their Headmaster was here.

The naming of Gilderoy Lockhart as the perpetrator of the terrible attacks against the school was an interesting choice of diversion by the true "Heir of Slytherin", but it was in fact nothing but a diversion. The Aurors arrested the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher almost immediately after the Fletchley boy made his accusation. Fortunately for him, though unfortunately for the Aurors and for the school, the subsequent interrogation showed that the man wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. Either that or Lockhart had suddenly acquired an immunity to Veratiserum.

Of course, what the Veratiserum did reveal was interesting enough. It seemed Lockhart hadn't actually done any of the things he wrote about in his books. He was a fraud, and a mind-rapist, stealing the accomplishments of others and _Obliviating _them to cover his tracks. Lockhart wasn't the Heir, but nevertheless won himself a cell in Azkaban Prison for his efforts.

When Dumbledore examined Justin Finch-Fletchley, it was clear that he'd been under the _Imperius _curse. Whoever had done that to the boy had covered every contingency… Finch-Fletchley had not only been ordered to accuse Lockhart, but his knowledge of the true attacker had been neatly erased. It could only have been the true Heir who had done this, someone still at the school. Someone who was still a danger to the student body.

And that was something Albus Dumbledore could simply not tolerate. He'd naturally been trying to find out who the Heir of Slytherin was since the attack on Argus Filch, but for the first time Dumbledore was beginning to listen to some of the rumors. Harry Potter and his "bride", Ginevra, were the only students who had displayed the raw power and spell-knowledge necessary to do some of the things the Heir had done. So as much as Dumbledore hated to admit it, he had begun to suspect the Potter boy might be up to something a bit more sinister than he should be.

The current situation, for example, worried him greatly. In studying the boy, Dumbledore had found Harry Potter to be amazingly charismatic, self-driven, determined, and capable of absolute dedication to whatever cause or action the boy chose to set himself to. Potter was capable of inspiring great loyalty from others, inspiring them to their own greatness through the power of his own leadership.

Dumbledore blinked as the word "power" drifted through his consciousness. Yes, power… that, too, Harry had… in spades. Harry Potter was easily the most powerful wizard of his year. Dumbledore could tell that just by watching the boy. But just how much more powerful, the Headmaster couldn't tell. _It could be, _Dumbledore thought to himself, _that I am looking at the most powerful student in the entire school… Harry's raw power might even eclipse some of the teachers…_

This thought gave Dumbledore a case of the shivers. Immense power, determination, and the fact that Harry Potter was gathering followers to himself, reminded Dumbledore of a bit too much of another boy… another driven, charismatic

"_COLUIGULES!" _A half-dozen voices called out the incantation, close enough to simultaneously to not really matter.

As a teacher… and he never stopped thinking of himself as a teacher, regardless of how long it had been since he had left the classroom in order to run the school entire… Dumbledore was impressed with the coordination the students displayed. The person who taught this class… his eyes automatically moved to follow Harry Potter as he walked around the other students... knew how to keep the others motivated and enthusiastic. Dumbledore also took note of the choice of spell with some interest. It had been his experience that when children taught themselves spells, it was usually the flashy ones, the ones that held the edge of daring and carried the scent of the explicit. _Stupefy_, for example, or _Reducto. _Something much more flashy than just a simple Color-Changing Charm.

The method of learning was obvious to the headmaster. Half the class would cast the Color-Changing Charm at the other half, who would try to protect themselves. And then the turns would reverse and the defenders would attack.

There was a moment of silence before a lone voice called out, "Oh fer fook's sake…." There was a smattering of giggles from the children, shocked and amused by the casual vulgarity coming from a now bright red Seamus Finnigan, in the same way that all twelve year olds are shocked and amused by hearing their fellows curse for the first time. Even Dumbledore had a hard time suppressing a sudden smile at the boy's exasperated outburst.

"You've got to be faster on the draw than that, mate." Finnigan's dorm-mate, Dean Thomas, chided the other boy gently.

The Irish boy's expression never changed. He was obviously seriously irritated. "Why are we playin' round w' the Color-Changing Charm, anyway? Its not like it will come in handy… when are we going to learn how to really fight?" From his position in the corner, Dumbledore leaned forward, interested in how the Potter boy would answer.

"Seamus… I think you're missing the point a bit." Harry stared at his dorm-mate for a moment before taking a deep breath. "We're not playing around with the Color-Changing Charm… we're practicing the Shield Charm. The Color-Changing Charm is just so no one is hurt while we're doing it. I want everybody able to do the Shield Charm before we learn to fight, because protecting yourself is more important. I mean… right now it's more important to learn how to stay alive… Staying alive is the key. Living, you know? Making it through… that's the key. There's no point in fighting if you're not going to live through it." Harry might have been speaking to Finnigan, but his eyes never left Ginny's. "You'd be better off running than dying in a fight you had no hope of winning."

"Right… we're learning to live…. Got it… but when are we going to learn how to fight?"

Harry's eyes shifted to Finnigan's, finally, and he laughed. "You'll learn to fight when you learn to stay your natural color!" The children all shared a laugh at Seamus's expense, and the Irish boy was good enough about it to join in. "So… if there are no more questions, let's all try it again…"

Dumbledore relaxed at the humor in the answer. He approved of the philosophy behind Harry's answer, even if he didn't completely approve of Harry teaching his fellow students combat. They did have Defense classes for a reason, after all. Not that the latest ones were any good, but at least the new teacher, called in at the last moment, would be an improvement. Quietly, using the magic of the room to hide the opening and closing of the door, Albus Dumbledore left.

XxxxxxX

"_COLUIGULES!"_

"_PROTEGO!"_

"Harry…" Susan Bones spoke up. The girl had just been rendered a bright crimson by Luna Lovegood, and was visibly flustered. "I don't think I have the wand movement down for the Shield Charm… could you show it to me again?"

Harry nodded and walked over. "Sure, Sue… hold a minute, Luna… the rest of you try again." There was another round of spells called as Harry took Susan in hand. "Here, you do like this… you sort of circle quickly, then flick." Harry stood behind the girl, guiding her arm and hand with her own. He couldn't see her face, and thus missed her sudden blush. "Circle, then flick. You do that while you say the incantation."

Oh, all right. Thank you, Harry." Susan turned toward Harry with a smile. "I have to…"

"_**BITCH!"**_ Everything was interrupted as a red-topped blur suddenly launched itself at Susan Bones, knocking her away from him and to the ground. It took Harry a moment to realize that it had been Ginny. He scrambled to his feet and watched, open-mouthed, as his wife rolled across the floor, grappling all the while with Susan Bones. "Get your foul little hands off of him! I'll hex your hair off, you fucking whore!"

The other children all stood, dumb-founded, as the two girls rolled over each other. Susan Bones finally pressed the advantage given her by her greater height and weight. She rolled Ginny under her and pinned her to the floor. "What is the matter with you, Ginny?"

"You know what you were doing, you bitch! I saw you! Get off me!" Ginny heaved against the weight of the older girl, but it was no use, she was stuck. "Get off me, Bones!"

"Ginny! Calm down!" Harry leaned down and pulled at Susan's arm, bringing her to her feet. He was just able to catch Ginny as she lunged upward at the girl again. "Ginny, stop it! What are you doing? Sue wasn't doing anything…"

"I saw how she looked at you! I saw it, Harry!" Ginny was breathing hard.

"She didn't look at me like anything, Ginny… she was just thanking me for helping her. Calm down!" Harry held Ginny close and stroked her back. "What was that all about?"

"She was… I just… but she was…" Ginny was still breathing heavy, and tears were leaking from the corner of her eyes. "I saw…" She burrowed her face into Harry's chest, sobbing.

Harry looked at the shocked faces gathered around them. Susan Bones looked mad enough to spit nails; everyone else was staring at Ginny in amazement. "Um… okay… everybody let's just… we'll do this… get together again day after tomorrow, after classes… Susan… um…" He shrugged as best he could without letting go of Ginny. Susan took a deep breath and her eyes narrowed at Ginny. Harry felt a strange hostility well up in his chest in response to the girl's reaction, but clenched his teeth before it escaped. "Everyone just… leave us alone for a bit, please."

Ron nodded and began shuffling everyone to the door. "Come on, then… let's give them a chance." He tugged at Susan Bone's arm and gave her a week smile. "Come on, Susan… I'm sure Harry'll talk to you later. Let's just…" She pulled her arm free, but nodded and followed him out of the room.

In moments, Ginny and Harry were alone. He held her until she had stopped crying, then held her some more. The room reconfigured itself around them automatically, replacing the wide open training space with a cozy sitting room, complete with a lit fireplace and a comfortable-looking love seat. With gentle care, Harry led Ginny to it and they sat.

"Okay, Gin?" He smiled as he dabbed at her face with the handkerchief he conveniently found on the love seat's side table. She paused for a moment, then nodded, smiling grimly back at him. "So… want to tell me what that was about?"

"I… um… I don't really know." Ginny hiccuped once. "She was standing so close to you, and she was blushing, and then she turned and smiled at you and all I wanted to do was yank out her spine up through her throat. I was just… filled up… with jealousy, and I couldn't think of anything else! I've never ever been that jealous before, Harry." She stared into his eyes, as if trying to will him to understand.

He smiled at her and stroked her cheek. "It's okay, Ginny… I love you… there's nothing to be jealous about. I was just helping her with the spell."

"I know, Harry. I know… I couldn't help it, though." She shuddered and leaned into him. "Why did I just… jump on her like that, Harry? Susan's never been anything but nice to me…" She hugged him close, breathing in his scent and taking strength from it. "I'm sorry, Harry… I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay, baby… It's all okay." They sat together for a while, just holding each other.

XxxxxxX

Not two days after that night, the school was afloat in rumors. Everyone seemed to have a different story. The two most popular among the various members of the student body were _Ginny tripped and knocked Susan over, it wasn't really a fight _and _Susan and Ginny argued because Susan was giving Harry the eye_. For a short while, _Ginny caught Harry feeling Susan's bubbies in a boom closet_ was popularly spread around the various boys' bathrooms. Susan, who unfortunately was developed enough that such rumors were exciting to overly excited teenaged boys, was mortified. Ginny, for her part, apologized quickly and repeated her apology every time a rumor floated past. Eventually, it was enough for Susan Bones to forgive her.

Soon, though, the second years were given something other than the fight and what might have sparked it to think about. The time had come to choose the elective subjects they'd be taking during their third year. Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron sat around a table in the Gryffindor common room, poring over the lists of new classes they could take. Ginny and Luna sat with them, offering moral support and the occasional opinion.

The stress of it all seemed to be driving Hermione spare. "We can't just choose willy-nilly… this will affect what O.W.L.s we take. Our choices now have an affect on our entire lives from now on!" Almost simultaneously, Luna and Neville leaned forward from their positions on either side of the nerve-struck girl and patted her on the hand.

Hermione looked sheepish. "Sorry… I suppose I was getting a bit excited."

"You know, as long as I get to drop potions," Harry began, "I really don't care what electives I take."

"It doesn't work that way," Ron said with a bit of a sarcastic edge. "You have to keep all your old subjects. All this means is you can choose a few more."

"So what do you guys think," Neville asked. All week, he'd received letters from every adult in his family advising him as to what electives to be sure to choose. Unfortunately, no two agreed precisely. "Do you think Arithmancy is more difficult than Ancient Runes? You know my Great Uncle Algie suggested I go for Divination, but I don't know… it sounds like stuff and nonsense to me. What do you think?"

Unconsciously, Harry snorted. He replied without looking up at from his sign-up sheet. "I think Professor Trelawney is a joke. That's what I think." His face relaxed as he muttered, "Ahah! There it is…"

"Who's Professor Trelawney?" Neville asked.

"Hmm?" Harry asked in return, finally looking up to see the entire table staring at him. "What?"

"Who is Professor Trelawney, Harry? I don't think I've ever heard of a teacher by that name…" Ginny looked around at the others and all of them nodded at her comment.

"Oh… she teaches Divination, or at least that's the theory. Stays in a room over her classroom, at the top of the North Tower. She's a big fraud, if you ask me; I don't care how many prophecies she's made, she's a joke. And you can't teach someone to be a seer… you just can't. Either you are one or you're not. She barely qualifies. Don't waste your time with her, Neville."

"So she's made prophecies?" Ron asked.

Harry stopped for a moment and seemed to stare into space. "She's given two actual prophecies," he said in a rather dead-toned voice. "One before I was born. The other she'll give… she'll give…" Harry rubbed his forehead for a moment and winced. "I don't know… she gives it when… I can't…"

"Harry, it's okay…" Ginny reached out and threaded her fingers through Harry's, and his obvious anxiety left.

Everyone was quiet for a moment before then Ron spoke again. "So… do you know what they were about? What did they say?"

"What?" Harry glanced at Ron. "Oh, the prophecies… right… well, um… according to Dumbledore, the first one said…" Harry trailed off suddenly and his eyes grew big as saucers. He stared at Neville for a moment too long, then turned toward Ginny. "Gin, I don't think it's… I mean… I need to talk to Dumbledore."

Neville wasn't stupid. He'd caught Harry's glance and now was worried about the possibilities. None of the other friends had missed it either. "Harry, if it's something I ought to know, don't you think you should tell me?" Neville asked in a voice that was lower and more commanding than the friends had ever heard him use. Harry blanched.

"Tell them, Harry…" Ginny's voice was quiet and supportive. "Don't keep it a secret like last time…"

Before any of the friends who ask what Ginny meant by that, Harry began speaking. "Okay… you're right… you're all my friends so you deserve to know. Several months before I was born, Sybill Trelawney, the future professor of Divination at Hogwarts, gave a True Prophecy to Professor Dumbledore. It went like this: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies._" Harry heard Neville's muttered, "Oh shit", but didn't stop to acknowledge it. _"And the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

"Born as the seventh month dies… thrice defied… oh, holy shit…" Neville looked to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "My folks… Gran was always telling me stories… my folks… they fought death eaters… they actually caught death eaters in three big battles… and I was born on June 30th… Holy shit, that's…" Luna stood and moved to Neville's side, embracing him gently from behind. Hermione took Neville's hand and let the boy hold on.

"It's not you, Neville… calm down." Ginny leaned over to casually brush Harry's fringe away from his scar. "And the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, remember? Harry was born the day after you were. It's about Harry."

"I don't know if that makes it any better, Ginny." Neville said, still feeling faint. He looked to Luna, then glanced at Hermione, and smiled at both girls. "Thanks… I appreciate it."

"It's okay, Neville. You just haven't figured out how strong a person you can be yet. But I'm sure you will figure it out sooner or later." Luna smiled down at him. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to kiss you." And with that, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Not to be out-done, Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the other side. "We're here for you." She turned to Harry and said, "You too, by the way." The table fell into silence for a long while. Finally, when almost no one could take it anymore, Hermione spoke. "So… Harry… does this prophecy mean what I think it means?"

"It's him or you, isn't it?" Luna asked. She hugged Neville again, then returned to her seat. "I mean, that's what it's about, right?"

"Yeah… that's what it's all about," Harry said darkly.

"Well… that's… very interesting," Ron said finally. "Very interesting indeed." The redheaded boy tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then stood. "Well… I'm going to find something to eat. Anyone care to join me? No? Okay then…"

As Ron left through the portrait hole, Neville just stared. "I can't believe him… this incredible piece of bad news, and all he can think about is food."

Ginny just shrugged. _That's just Ron,_ the gesture said.

"So what about the other one?" Four sets of eyes turned to meet Luna's. All were set in various expressions of confusion.

"I'm sorry?" Harry responded.

"What about the other prophecy, Harry?" Luna asked. "You said there were two given by the Divination professor. Right?"

"Oh well, yeah… the second one…" Harry thought about it for a moment. "I can't remember the exact wording of that one. It went something like _The Dark Lord's servant shall break free and rejoin his master, and the Dark Lord will rise with his servant's aid _or something like that. I have to admit I've been more concerned with the first one than the second.

Everyone thought about it for a moment. "So someone who served You-Know-Who will break free of something, and go to him, and then help him rise again. One of the Death Eaters in Azkaban?" Hermione asked.

Neville jumped on the subject with gusto. "Yeah, sure… someone like Sirius Black… or Bellatrix Lestrange! They'll break out of Azkaban somehow… it makes sense! But when? When was she talking about?"

"Bella who?" Harry shook his head. "No… Sirius Black is innocent! He didn't even have a trial! The second prophecy is about… Peter… Petti… grew…" Harry trailed off into silence for a moment, the blank look reappearing on his face. He turned to look at Ginny, who stared in return. Then, almost in synch with each other, the pair turned toward the boy's dorm stairway.

"Harry? Ginny? What's going on?"

Hermione's voice seemed to shake Harry and Ginny out of it. Harry turned toward her quickly, his eyes dancing. "Hermione… go get Professor Dumbledore! And Professor McGonagall! And hurry!" He turned back to Ginny, excited. "Professor Snape won't be around to mess this up this time!"

"Mess what up? What do you mean, this time?" Hermione hadn't moved. She just sat in her chair, looking confused.

"Hermione! Go!" Harry almost screamed at her. "It's important, and we don't have any time to lose! Just go! Bring Dumbledore and McGonagall! Tell them there's an intruder in Gryffindor Tower, and hurry!" Hermione started to say something, but obviously thought better of it. She stood, and as she did, Neville and Luna rose too.

"I'll go get McGonagall," Neville said. "You girls go get Dumbledore. We'll be right back, Harry!" Hermione gave Harry once last look, then followed Neville and Luna out the door.

"They'll have to let Sirius go now," Ginny said. "If they don't pardon him outright, he'll at least get the trial they should have given him all those years ago!"

"I hope he demands a trial. That way they have to admit they made a mistake. And he won't have to live like a fugitive this time!"

"You can live with him at Grimmauld Place! _**We**__…_ can live with him at Grimmauld Place!" Ginny was almost jumping up and down as she hugged Harry. "The Dursleys can go rot! You won't have to put up with them anymore."

"Shh… shh… we can't say anything more… what if…" Harry mouthed _the rat_. "We don't want him hearing us…"

Ginny just nodded. But visions of life together with Harry in a house not filled with brothers kept flickering past her conscious mind. It was enough to keep her excited, regardless.

XxxxxxX

"He could have taken the time to let us know why we are to get Professor Dumbledore. It can't have been that urgent." Hermione was still a bit upset. She hated not knowing what was going on… her natural curiosity, combined with an almost obsessive need to be in control over whatever situation she found herself in, made not knowing things the worst possible circumstance for her to find herself in. And what was worse, she knew it.

"I suppose we'll just have to trust in Harry," Luna said. She smiled at Hermione and asked, "You're very cute when you are frustrated. Did you know that?"

"Oh… um… well…" Hermione blushed. "No, I didn't know that, Luna. Am I really?" It almost came out as a giggle.

"Oh yes… and the boys think so too. All of them. Even Harry, though he won't say anything about it." Luna skipped three paces ahead, then turned to look back at Hermione. "Isn't Neville just dreamy? And he is just so cute when he blushes. I think you're so lucky he's crushing on you." The blonde girl smiled as Hermione blushed again. A movement behind Hermione caused Luna to glance in that direction. Ron was moving very quickly toward them, and he had an odd look on his face. "Oh, it's Ronald!"

Ron was grinning, but it wasn't his usual happy-go-lucky smile. This was a crueler smile, the smile of someone that had just hurt another person and enjoyed it. Greatly enjoyed it.

Hermione turned, curious. "Ron? I thought you were…"

Without warning, Ron lifted his wand to Hermione. He all but rammed it into her solar plexus, calling out, _SAPORNO!" _as he did! There was a flash of light as the Banishing spell struck Hermione at point blank range. The girl flew as if fired from a cannon and slammed bodily into the wall. There was a loud, sickening crack… the unmistakable sound of breaking bones… as Hermione struck, then slid down the wall to the corridor's floor.

Stunned, Luna reacted too late. By the time she had her wand out, Ron had her in wrapped up in ropes and Silenced. Luna teetered for a moment, then fell face-first to the ground. Her nose broke painfully and she tasted blood. For a moment Luna was afraid she'd choke to death on it, but Ron turned her sideways, allowing her to breathe. She could only blink in fright as Ron leaned over her, leering.

"No, don't worry, Lovegood… I'm not going to hurt you. At least not much. You're going to be a messenger for me. Tell your friend Potter that the Heir of Slytherin has taken his Mudblood bitch to the Chamber of Secrets. Tell him I want him to come alone… or else I'll kill both his Mudblood and this blood-traitor's body…"

Tears began to form in Luna's eyes,

"You will give him the message, won't you?" Ronald… or rather the hideous thing riding Ronald asked her.

Luna nodded, still crying.

"Good. And just so you don't forget… a little motivation to remember. _CRUCIO!"_

Luna screamed and screamed, but no one could hear her…


	16. The Pieces Are Moving

**Chapter 16: The Pieces Are Moving**

While they waited for Neville to return with their Head of House, and for Hermione and Luna to return with the Headmaster, they worked. They moved without talking to each other; it was as if they instinctively knew what they needed to do, and set about doing it.

Several of the other children in the common room stopped their chess games, their studying, or simply stopped conversing to watch as the two younger Gryffindors moved – in fact, almost danced -- about the smaller study-group table.

Ginny giggled as she waved her wand about the table. Instantly, a low buzzing sounded in the ears of the other students in the room, making the area of the now-warded table muted and indecipherable to outside listeners. "There. We can talk now, without Scabbers hearing," she said. "Do you think Sirius is going to get all weird about us sharing a room, like Mum and Dad did? I'd hate to go through that argument again. Grownups, I'm telling you… there's just no reasoning with them…"

Harry just smiled at her. "He'll probably be a little weird about it, but then he'll let us do what we want. I mean, he's Sirius. You know how he's like. _Freno!_" He waved his wand over the table, creating an attraction ward. Anything placed on the table would now resist being removed.

For a moment, Ginny's smile faded. "I know how he's like?" she repeated in a low, soft voice. The thought confused her. She could picture the man they were talking about, Sirius Black, in her head. Despite the fact that she had never met the man, she could see him in her mind as clear as day. But at the same time, she knew she'd never met the man. Ginny stared into space for a moment, before shaking her head. The confusion faded as quickly as the thought.

"Can we decorate our room? I've wanted to redecorate my room at the Burrow for ages," Ginny said, finally. "Pink was all right when I was little, but now that I'm not a kid anymore, I think I'd rather have blue, or a nice deep red, or maybe green." She smiled at Harry. "To match your eyes." She moved around one end of the table. "Are you sure _Freno_ is going to be enough?"

Harry paused a moment. "It should be… I don't want to use _Freno Maximus_. We'd have to destroy the table if we used the Permanent Sticking charm." He bounced to one of the couches and yanked a lounge pillow out from under Parvati Patil.

"Pardon me, please!" The girl squawked in protest. Her coffee-colored skin darkened as she flushed.

Harry stopped for a moment, and then turned back to her. "Oh, it's no problem… I just need this quickly. Thanks!"

As Parvati huffed, Harry placed the pillow on the table. He concentrated for a moment, and then waved his wand. The pillow seemed to melt before reforming into a metal-barred cage sized just right for a rat. "Better make it unbreakable, just in case he tries to escape by changing back into a man and bursting it," he said to himself, still waving his wand.

The boy looked up to see a girl standing in front of him, a confused look on her face. He searched his memory and came up with a name: Alice Kendall, sixth year girl's prefect. "hrry… hu ddd oo jss oo ddt?"

"Hey… _Muffliato _works both ways! Cool!" Ginny said. Harry grinned at her again, and then stepped outside the bounds of the ward.

"Sorry, yes? What was your question?"

The prefect looked annoyed and impatient. "I asked how you just did that. You transfigured the pillow into a metal box and I never saw you say any incantation!"

"Oh…" Harry looked thoughtful. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. Just needed to turn it into a cage for the rat." He picked the cage up carefully and jiggled with it until the top set of bars was open.

"Rat? What rat?"

Harry grinned again. It seemed to be the thing to do. "This one. " He flicked his wand toward the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory. "_Accio Scabbers!"_

From up the staircase, a loud thump sounded. Then another. Then came a splintering sound, as if something small but sturday was rapidly pulled through a very closed, yet very old wooden door. The summoned rat bounced off the lintel of the stairs before flying into the common room.

"What the hell, Potter!" Kendall ducked just in time to avoid being hit in the head by the flying rodent. It soared through the air directly toward Harry, who deftly caught the creature in the cage. Within moments, the top was back in place.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. His smile faded just a bit. "It… um… was… it was chewing on my books! So I'm putting it in this cage to teach… urr… Weasley… Ron, I mean, not Ginny… and when I told him about it, he…"

"You mean to say that you're using your dorm-mate's pet as some sort of projectile? To get back at him for something? How dare you treat a poor defenseless… Ten points from Gryffindor! And I want you to give Weasley his rat back! In one piece, Potter!" Turning on her heel, she stalked back to her friends.

Harry looked to Ginny, who just shrugged and smiled again. Harry put the cage on the table and peered down at the stunned rodent. His near-constant smile turned dark and cruel. "Hello… my name is Harry Potter. I know who you are, _Peter_, and I know what you did," he whispered.

"Oh, Harry… this is going to be so wonderful." The thought of having her own home, with her Harry, excited her. Even if it would really be owned by Sirius, it would be a home for the two of them. It was a grown-up thing, she decided.

**XxxxxxX**

Professor Minerva McGonagall was, to put it plainly, in no mood for foolishness. Long before the Potter boy had arrived at Hogwarts, she had suspected that his time here would be filled with… interesting occurrences. Her expectations had not gone unfulfilled. While she naturally felt a fondness for the child of two of her all-time favorite students, the boy's defiant attitude bothered her.

His father had been a troublemaker, but at least he was contrite when confronted about it. Harry Potter was anything but regretful that he had cost the Malfoy boy his first wand. The snapping of a wand was a direct insult to the blood, and wasn't to be done on a whim. It was as if Harry Potter _wanted _to go to war with the Malfoy family.

And the situation with the Weasley girl. Minerva found her to be studious and clever in class, but also odd. She knew far more magic than a first year student should to know, including several spells that no one outside of a combat-trained Auror ought to be using. _Ginny Weasley… Ginny Potter…_ _Oh, blast it all_, the Professor thought to herself. _Young Ginevra… the girl… is simply…_ She flailed around for a moment for the right word or phrase. _Nerve-wracking._

The entire situation was just troubling, and she didn't like troubling. She liked orderly. She liked quiet and peaceful and predictable. To the Transfiguration professor, chaos was to be avoided, and when it couldn't be avoided, it was to be put down quickly, efficiently, and with as much of a lesson to the chaos-maker as possible. Intellectually, Minerva knew this was why she had such a hard time keeping her cool, detached demeanor toward the two Potters. But in her forty years of teaching, this situation had never arisen before, and she was finding herself out of her depth. That irritated her. And so it was a harried and irritated Professor McGonagall who swept into the Gryffindor common room with Neville Longbottom close behind.

Potter and his… whatever she was… turned toward Minerva as soon as she entered. The professor saw the girl wave her wand in the air, then murmur something to Potter that was too low to be overheard. She was certain the girl had just canceled a spell of some type.

As Minerva strode to the study table that had been taken over by Harry and Ginny, she took in the cage, the rat, and the strangely smug and self-satisfied looks on the two students. "Mister Longbottom has told me you needed to see me, and that it was a matter of some urgency. Now that you've torn me away from my duties as deputy headmistress, how might I help you, Mister Potter?"

"There was an intruder in the tower, Professor," Harry replied, pointing toward the caged rat. "Ginny and I caught him, and thought you that, as our Head of House; we should turn him over to you so the Aurors can be called in to arrest him."

"An intru… oh, for… Mister Potter, what sort of… sick game do you think you are trying to play, here? I am not amused. Thirty points from Gryffindor for wasting my time with this foolishness."

She turned to leave, but Harry called out, "Professor, it's not a game! This is Peter Pettigrew!"

Minerva stopped in her tracks, absolutely appalled at the words the Potter boy had just spoken. The… the… the crass, hateful… not even Potter should… it was _indecent_, pulling this sort of prank! An insult to his parents! She spun in place. "Fifty more points, Mister Potter, and detention. This sick joke of yours is over. I cannot believe that _**you**_ of all people would be so low as to exploit your parents memories just for the sake of a practical joke!"

From behind her, Neville spoke up. "But, Professor… if Harry…"

"No more, Mister Longbottom, just be grateful I don't take points from you, as well." Minerva's face was tight. She turned her attention to the cage on the table. "That is Mister Weasley's rat, correct?" She drew her wand from the pocket of her skirt.

The professor made to release it from the cage, but the moment she cast it, Potter leapt in the way and deflected it. For a moment her vision turned red at the very defiance the boy was displaying. When the boy spoke, she barely heard him. "Please, professor… just wait until the headmaster arrives! Please!"

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to become calmer. Minerva stared at the two students for a moment, and took in their expressions and body language. They didn't seem to be trying to get out of trouble. In fact, they looked as if they earnestly believed this rubbish.

She spoke slowly, still forcing herself to be calm. "Mister Potter…" She softened at the tears that were threatening in the boy's eyes. "Harry," she began again. "I don't know from where you heard the name Peter Pettigrew, and I don't understand why you think that animal could possibly _**be**_ Pettigrew, but I assure you, you're wrong. I'm sorry… Peter Pettigrew was killed… murdered… the morning after your parents died. He was killed by the very man who betrayed your parents to Voldemort. Now… return Mister Weasley's pet to him and let's be done with this foolishness."

"But this is…" Potter began, only to stop when McGonagall held up her hand to silence him.

"No more, Mister Potter. No more." The Potter boy's face fell, and he was silent. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks, and for a moment Minerva felt a stab of regret for being so forceful in shutting down whatever this particular game was about. But only for a moment. Discipline must be maintained. Order must continue. No exceptions.

She took a deep breath and turned to leave, only to be stopped by a tug on her sleeve. She looked down into the eyes of Ginny Potter. The girl had begun to cry. "Please, professor… can't we wait for the headmaster?"

Minerva sighed. "The headmaster is away from the school, finalizing the hiring of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He's likely to be gone for some hours. Do as I've instructed; return the rat to your brother. Then I suggest the two of you return to your studies."

She stepped quickly through the portrait hole and out of the common room, not once looking back at the two students. It was harsh, perhaps, but they needed to learn the lesson that some things weren't to be joked about.

**XxxxxxX**

"What… why didn't… she didn't even try to see if we were telling the truth! And she's supposed to be our Head of House! Isn't she supposed to… I don't know... be helpful or supportive or something?" Ginny slumped into one of the chairs around the table.

Harry shrugged. "She didn't believe Ron, Hermione, or me last year when we told her that someone was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone." He sat down next to her and poked at the cage idly. "I do know one thing… we're not giving Ron his rat back."

**XxxxxxX**

Professor McGonagall had no more than sat once again at her desk when there came a rather insistent pounding on her office door. She frowned as she rose. _Probably a first year… the older students know better than to beat on my office door as if it were a kettle drum, _she thought to herself.

But it wasn't a first year. It was the fifth year Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater. The girl was obviously distressed and rather out of breath. "Yes, Miss Clearwater? What is it?"

"Professor… please… we found one of the…" The girl began. She stopped and took in a deep breath. Then she started again. She was much more settled this time. "Percy Weasley and I found one of the Gryffindor first years lying unconscious in one of the second floor corridors!"

Minerva's face betrayed her surprise and her worry for only a moment before shifting back into her usual tightly controlled non-expressive expression. "I trust you and Mister Weasley took the child to the hospital wing?" Clearwater nodded, and Minerva asked, "And the girl in question?"

Penelope paused. "I think her name was Lovegood, if I heard Madame Pomfrey correctly, ma'am. Once we got the girl into one of the beds for the matron, Madame Pomfrey did something with her wand, then immediately directed me to come here to you. I was to inform you of the girl's condition, and relay a request that you come to the hospital wing immediately, ma'am. The matron was emphatic that you are to _show a leg_ and come and speak to her _right now without delay_, ma'am… those are her words, begging your pardon."

Minerva was silent for a moment as she accessed her memory of the girl. The ability to recall the names and faces of every child to attend Hogwarts during her years as a teacher was just one of those small tricks that caused the students to think her wiser and more omniscient than she really was.

_Lovegood… _she thought to herself. _Luna Lovegood… though everyone but her friends call "Loony"… her father is Xenophilius Lovegood… good grades and an earnestness about learning that should have made her a Ravenclaw but didn't… strange and off-puttingly blunt... and she's one of Potter's merry band of troublemakers… "_Very well… thank you for delivering your message," the professor said at last. She stepped out into the corridor, sparing just enough time to Penelope Clearwater to dismiss her.

The Clearwater girl didn't move, however. She stood there with a nervous expression on her face that immediately put the impression in Minerva's mind that the girl needed to visit a lavatory. "Was there something else, Miss Clearwater?"

The girl immediately looked relieved. "Yes, ma'am. There was a message scrawled on the wall. Just above the Lovegood girl, where we found her, I mean. It read _Their bones will lie in the Chamber forever!_ It was the Heir, professor! The Heir of Slytherin attacked Lovegood!" Penelope looked on the edge of panic. "I thought they arrested Professor Lockhart and took him away! I thought _he _was the Heir!"

Minerva shook her head. "Don't be daft, girl. That man doesn't have the magical strength to cough up a decent tickling charm, much less petrify someone," she muttered. Minerva was lost in thought for a moment before suddenly jerking her head up. "Just a moment… you said _their_ bones? Plural? More than one person?"

"Er… yes, ma'am. It said 'their' bones."

"Merlin help us… the Heir of Slytherin hasn't just attacked Lovegood. He's taken someone down into the Chamber with him." McGonagall looked at Miss Clearwater and snapped, "Go! Go to Professor Flitwick. I need him to move all students back to their common rooms. Once there, I want the prefects to do a head count of all students in their houses and report the results to the Head Boy and Head Girl, who will relay the information to me. Also, I need to speak to the Heads of House. Tell them all to meet me in the Hospital Wing. Go, girl… there's no time to waste."

It took Professor McGonagall only a handful of minutes to make her way from her office to the school's hospital. Only the one bed was occupied; a quiet week. She saw Pomfrey hovering over a bed nearest the nurse's office and swiftly moved to join the other woman.

"Poppy… What has happened to Miss Lovegood?"

The nurse didn't turn from her patient. She was waving her wand over the unconscious child, muttering diagnostic charms all along. Minerva knew that Pomfrey's healer's oath demanded she finish with Lovegood before answering any questions, but the question had to be asked anyway.

Finally, Madame Pomfrey finished. She turned to the rolling potions rack and started extracting vials. "As far as I can tell, Minerva, she is suffering from _Cruciatus _over-exposure. She was either placed under the curse and held there for some minutes, or else was held under it for ten or twelve seconds, repeatedly over the space of several minutes." The nurse did a quick visual check of the hospital to make sure no one could intrude, then summoned a privacy screen around the bed.

With one hand, the matron popped the stopper off of the end of one vial, and with the other ran a wand-tip down the front of Luna's robes. The clothing and undergarments split down the middle. Pomfrey spread the girl's outer robes, shirt, and training brassiere out of the way and poured a dark green liquid directly onto Luna's naked skin. She placed the bottle in the "empty bin" on the rolling rack, then turned to massage the liquid into the unconscious girl's chest and abdomen.

Professor McGonagall was in shock. "The _Cruciatus_… Poppy, will she be… is she going to end up like the poor, broken-minded Longbottoms?"

The nurse just shook her head. "No… they were held under the curse for three to five minutes at a time, over the course of several hours. In the case of Miss Lovegood here, the nerve damage isn't permanent, but it is quite extensive." She finished the massage, wiped her hands off on a towel. She then used her wand to transform the girl's damaged clothing into a hospital gown. "The tonic I just applied will keep her from spasming long enough for her body to relearn how to control its own nerve-channels. She should be waking up shortly. You, of course, have a larger problem on your hands."

Minerva nodded vaguely, only barely paying attention anymore. She blinked for a moment, then turned to look the nurse in the eyes. "You are right, as always, Poppy. With Albus not here, it falls to me to figure out just who tortured Miss Lovegood, and who has been taken down into the Chamber by the Heir."

"Not to mention figuring out where the Chamber itself is hidden," a cold voice said from behind the Deputy Headmistress. She turned to see Severus Snape approach. "I stopped Miss Clearwater while she was hurtling pell-mell down the corridor and she said she was on a mission from you, professor. She said you wanted to see the Heads of House?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, Severus, thank you for getting here quickly. Another student has been attacked by the Heir of Slytherin. Worse yet, it appears a student has been abducted, taken into the Chamber by the Heir."

**XxxxxxX**

"Come on, Perce… what's going on? Tell us!" Fred Weasley asked his older brother.

Percy Weasley paused for a moment before his face contracted into a scowl. "Damn it all, George, you made me lose my count! Now I have to start all over! And I told you to stop calling me 'Perce'… I am not a lady's handbag!"

"I'm not George, I'm Fred," Fred said. "You'd think that after fourteen years of being our brother, you'd have learned to…"

"SHUT IT!" Percy yelled. The elder Weasley boy stared at Fred for a moment, then colored at the realization he had lost his 'professional demeanor'. "Look, I'm trying to get a headcount, and if you keep interrupting me, I'll never be done with it. This is important, you daft git! There's been another attack -- one girl is hurt, and someone else is missing!"

"Oh… sorry," Fred muttered. He and George went to enormous lengths to crack a joke or to pull a prank, but they both knew when to cut it out in a serious situation. "Hey, I mean it… I didn't know, you know?"

Percy nodded, trying to keep attention on his count. "Fine… go sit down so I don't count you twice."

Fred's shoulders slumped as he sat down on a long couch next to George. "Well, I found out what this is all about." The other kids in the circle around Fred and his twin leaned in to hear better. "Seems there's been another attack. One person injured, another missing."

From the other side of George Weasley, Neville Longbottom abruptly started to stand up. "What! Wait… Luna and Hermione! They never got back from trying to find Dumbledore!" He quickly scanned the common room, confirming that neither girl was there. "They must be the ones you were talking about! Did Percy say which was hurt and which missing?"

"Hey… wait a moment…" It was Harry's turn to scan the common room. "Ron isn't here either…"

Everyone just stared for a moment. "This is not good. This is very bad. Very bad, indeed," Ginny said at last.

"The Heir of Slytherin… He took them to the Chamber of Secrets, you reckon?" Neville asked.

"Must have… except the one that he _merely_ injured," Harry replied. He thought for a moment. "Fred, George… we need to go help them. McGonagall isn't going to help. We've already found that out earlier. She thinks I'm just making things up."

"I'm for pulling a rescue mission, Harry," George began. "But we don't even know where the Chamber of Secrets is hidden. Not to mention we have to get past Perfect Percy."

"Getting past Percy will be a snap. We'll run interference while the kids get away. But finding the Chamber… yeah, that's a corker."

"Well… what do we know about the Chamber? Let's figure this out…" Ginny held up her hand and extended one finger. "Salazar Slytherin built it and hid the entrance in such a way that no one else could find it." She extended a second finger. "The Chamber contains a lethal monster." A third finger. "The Chamber was opened fifty years ago. There were attacks then, but only one death… the other victims were merely petrified." A fourth finger. "They blamed Hagrid for the attacks on the word of a school prefect named Tom Riddle."

"Voldemort…" Harry said vaguely. Everyone winced. Harry looked at everyone suddenly. "Oh come off it, it's only a name. And it's Riddle's name… look at this…" Harry lifted his wand and wrote 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in the air in flaming letters. A further wave of his wand and the letters reworked themselves into 'I Am Lord Voldemort'. When everyone had grasped the implications, Harry dismissed the letters with a further wave.

"That's… an interesting charm, Harry. Can you teach it to us?" Neville asked, completely gobsmacked for a moment.

"Neville, not now." Ginny's scowl matched Percy's. "If Voldemort… oh, bother… just deal with it already… if Voldemort supposedly caught Hagrid releasing the Monster of Slytherin, what do you want to bet it was actually him? I mean… does Hagrid really seem to be the type to just let a rampaging monster loose in the castle?" The group glanced at each other for a moment, then back to Ginny. The girl sighed deeply and added, "_On purpose_?"

"Not on _purpose_, no…" Neville conceded.

"Especially since the person making the accusation was Voldemort. It's much more likely that he released the monster on the school. Look at who his targets were! Muggleborn students! Look who has been attacked this time! Muggleborn students!"

"Luna's a pureblood, though," interjected Neville.

Harry waved it away. "Yeah, but she was with Hermione, a Muggleborn. Luna would just be a target of convenience because she was there!"

"And Ron?" Fred asked.

"I have no idea."

"Look, how does any of this help us figure out where the Chamber is hidden?" George asked.

Ginny had that 'far off' look common to those in deep thought. "Wait… wait a moment… there was only one person killed during the first wave of attacks, fifty years ago. Right, Harry?"

"Yeah. A Muggleborn girl was killed. Her body was found in a bathroom on the second floor."

Ginny just stared at Harry for a moment. "A bathroom on the second floor? And it would be a _girls'_ bathroom on the second floor?"

"Wait, you mean the same bathroom where they found Filch?" George's mouth was so wide open in surprise he could have shoved a whole persimmon into it. "_Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"_

"Why not? I mean, have you seen what she's wearing? It's a Hogwarts uniform. She was a student here. And it's nearly the same uniform we wear, so she couldn't have died all that long ago… maybe she haunts that bathroom because she was killed in it!"

After a moment, Harry turned to the twins. "Fred, George, we need you to distract the prefects long enough for us to get out of here. We need to go talk to a ghost…"

**XxxxxxX**

It had taken Harry, Ginny, and Neville nearly half an hour to get to the second-floor girl's lav, creeping carefully under the invisibility cloak the entire time. Twice, they had to stop and stand motionless as one of the faculty rushed past. But finally, they reached the bathroom and entered.

"Myrtle?" Ginny called, pulling the cloak from her head and shoulders.

The boys looked around, their mouths open. They were treading in what was normally forbidden territory, yet were somehow disappointed that the girls' bathroom wasn't all that different from the boys. More sinks, maybe, and no stand-up urinals, but otherwise, the 'forbidden territory' didn't look all that forbidden.

"Who's there?" A high, sad voice came from one end of a row of toilets. A silvery, translucent girl stuck her head through one of the stall walls. Moaning Myrtle stared at the trio for a moment, her eyes wide in shock. "What are they doing in here? This is a girl's toilet!" yelled the ghost. "Get out!"

Ginny stepped forward, raising her hands in an effort to get the ghost to calm down. "It's okay, Myrtle… they won't be here for long! We need your help, though!"

"My help? No you don't. You want to make fun of me. No one ever needs my help." Myrtle retreated into her stall.

"No, wait!" Harry called.

The ghost poked her head back out of the stall. "Why should I?"

He shrugged. "I… We… We honestly need your help. I'm Harry. This is Neville, and that's Ginny. We need to rescue our friends from the Chamber of Secrets."

"But I don't know anything about the Chamber of Secrets. I spend all my time in here." Once again, the ghost turned back into her stall.

Neville spoke for the first time. "We need to ask you some questions!"

That stopped Myrtle in her ectoplasmic tracks. She was quiet for a moment before asking, "What sort of questions?"

"Well…" Harry stepped forward. He was clearly uncomfortable with the entire subject. "We… urr… we need to ask you about… the day you… died." The boy waited for the explosion, but Myrtle's reaction wasn't what Harry expected. Rather than getting angry over Harry's insensitivity, Myrtle blushed.

"Oh, it was absolutely horrible. I did just here, you know… in the doorway of this very toilet stall. I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it has been years and years. I died in 1943, you know. I was only a third year… cut down in the very prime of my life…"

"Yes, but… how did you die?"

"Well, I was hiding in the toilet. Olive Hornby had teased me awful about my glasses. She called me a four-eyed know-it-all. Personally, I think she was just jealous because I had better grades than she did. Even though we were both in Ravenclaw House, she wasn't very diligent when it came to her studies, and I said so. We were constantly insulting each other… but she had more friends than I did, so they would gang up on me, you see. It was horrible."

Ginny nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's hard when your fellow students won't give you a break. So… how you died?"

"I'm getting to it!" Myrtle snapped. "I was hiding in the toilet, crying, when I heard someone come in. I couldn't see them, but I heard them when they started making this strange hissing noise. It took me a minute to realize that the person speaking was a _**boy!**_ Well, I stepped out to tell them they were in the wrong bathroom, and then… I _died…"_

"But how did you die?" Harry asked.

"No idea. I just died."

Neville asked, "You just stepped out of the stall and fell over dead?"

"Yes, that's pretty much describes it. One minute I was wiping tears from my eyes, the next minute I was staring down at my own corpse. Quite a shock, really."

"But… but…" sputtered Harry.

"I mean, it wasn't painful or anything… one second alive, the next second dead. Took me by complete surprise. In fact, it was years before I realized that the reason I stayed around was so I could torment Olive Hornby… I wanted to make her sorry she ever thought about laughing at my glasses."

"Don't you remember anything about how you died?" Harry was scandalized that anyone, even a ghost, could discuss her own death that casually.

"Well, I _do_ remember a pair of great big yellow eyes. They were over there, somewhere." The ghost waved vaguely at the row of sinks that ran along the wall in front of the toilet stalls. The three living children rushed over, examining the sinks for any further clues. "What in the world are the three of you doing?"

"We're looking for the door to the Chamber of Secrets, Myrtle. You were the only person killed during the first wave of attacks, after all, and since you died in this bathroom, it makes sense that the doorway might be in this bathroom." Neville explained as he went down on his hands and knees to examine the piping under the porcelain bowls of the sink.

"Really? Do you think it's in here?" Myrtle floated over to watch them search.

"Why not? It's as good a place as any to look," Harry said, running his hands along the sides and tops of the mirrors.

Myrtle was silent a moment before speaking again. "That might explain what that red-haired boy was doing in here."

Everyone stopped what they were doing, then turned to stare at the ghost. "Who?"

"He looked like a second or third year student. Tall, gangly, red-hair. When I told him to get out of my bathroom because he was a boy, he used a Ghost Banishing charm on me… drove me down the pipes all the way to the Black Lake, it did." Myrtle floated up to the tops of the mirrors, where she began visually inspecting them. "After that, I left the moment he entered. I don't know if you've ever been subjected to a Ghost Banishing charm, but it hurts like the dickens. I don't see anything up here, sorry."

Harry, Ginny, and Neville stared at each other in horror. None of them knew what to say, but everyone was thinking the same thing. Finally, Neville broke the silence. "But… but that would mean that… that Ron…"

"Yeah…" Ginny was horrified. "Ron's the Heir of Slytherin."

"No. He isn't. He can't be. There's no way in Hell that Ron would kill people, or turn a monster of Muggleborn students. I won't believe it." Harry's eyes were filling with tears as he shook his head. "No… it's Voldemort… he got control of Ron somehow. Voldemort's possessing him somehow." The bespectacled boy turned and slammed the flat of his hand against the mirror, over and over and over, each impact being accented with a loud cry of "No!"

Neville and Ginny were silent for a moment, letting Harry work it out. It took a couple of minutes, but finally the boy stopped striking the mirror. He took a deep breath, still crying, and said, "Let's just find the fucking entrance. Now we know we need to rescue Ron as well as Hermione and Luna." Harry turned back to the sink and turned the tap, wanting to splash his face with some water… but no water came out.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly.

Harry stared at the tap for a moment, and then saw it: scratched into the side of the handle was a tiny snake. He pulled, turned, and twisted the tap handle, trying to get it to open, convinced that this was the marker for the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. "It won't open," he said in a frighteningly desperate voice.

"Harry," Ginny said calmly. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Ginny leaned into him, letting him feel her entire presence. "Harry," she said again. "Stop for a moment. Breathe. I'm right here, and we'll get through this together." Harry began to calm almost immediately. Beside them, Neville looked distinctly uncomfortable, like he was witnessing something that should otherwise be private.

"I'm calm, Ginny. I'll be okay." Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"Er… Harry… why don't you try to… give it a command… tell it to open," Neville began. "In Parseltongue. Say something to it."

"But…" Harry sputtered. "I've never tried to say something in Parseltongue on purpose before. I didn't even know I was doing it, before…" He stared for a long moment at the tiny engraving of a snake. "Open up!" he said.

He glanced at Harry and Ginny, who both shook their heads. "That was in English, sorry," Neville said.

Harry turned back to the engraving and stared at it for a long moment. He brought up the memories of the two times he had spoken to snakes before: the zoo, when he talked to the python about how hard it was to grow up in captivity; and Malfoy's summoned cobra, suddenly brought into existence without any idea of what was going on. "_Open_," he hissed, his mouth forming the words in Parseltongue.

The tap suddenly burst into a bright white light and began to spin. The three students and the ghost backed away as the sink began to descend out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed. The pipe was easily wide enough for a person to slide into.

The three stared at it for a minute. Finally, Harry said, "Myrtle, if we're not back in an hour, please tell Professor McGonagall what has happened. Maybe she'll believe it if it comes from someone other than me." He looked at Neville, who only nodded, then to Ginny, who looked grim but also nodded.

Harry lowered himself into the pipe and hung there for a moment. "Well… here I go. See you at the bottom.,"

Then he let go.

The experience, he decided, was a bit like slipping down a filthy, mud-covered slide in a disused playground. Every now and again he passed other pipes as he slid, but none were as wide as the one he was in. At the curves he would thud into the walls just hard enough to hurt, though it was a small hurt. Behind him, he heard someone -- he couldn't tell if it was Ginny or Neville -- cry out in protest at one of the rough spots.

Just as Harry had begun to worry about just how deep he was going beneath the castle, the tube leveled out. He shot out of the pipe and landed with a wet-sounding thud on the floor of a dark, circular chamber. Harry climbed to his feet and began to brush himself off. He had only begun, though, when he heard a noise from the pipe that caused him to swiftly step aside. First Ginny and then Neville came rushing out of the pipe themselves, close enough together to become tangled when they came to a stop on the floor.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny groaned as she stood. "We must be miles under the school."

Neville put a hand on one of the walls to help himself up, but pulled it away quickly once he was on his feet. "This wall's running with water… we're probably under the lake!" He squinted around in the darkness. "Anyone see a door?"

"_Lumos!"_ The tip of Harry's wand lit up brightly. Quickly, Ginny and Neville did the same. The light merely made the chamber they were in look creepier, as it exposed the presence of hundreds of small bones on the floor.

Ginny asked, "Do you suppose whatever's down here has been eating the rats?"

Harry and Neville both nodded. "C'mon," Harry said, indicating the exit to the room. As they stepped into the dark tunnel beyond the doorway, their footsteps echoed wetly into the darkness. Even with their wands lit, the dark was so oppressive they could see only a few feet in front of them.

"Remember," Harry said, quietly, as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, try to find a place to hide." He wasn't sure exactly where they'd hide, but he figured it didn't hurt to say it. It turned out, however, that his warning wasn't necessary. The tunnel they were in was as silent as a grave, and the only unexpected sounds came from when one or the other of them accidentally stepped on a pile of rat bones.

They had walked for perhaps ten minutes when the tunnel widened out into another chamber. The three of them stopped for a moment to get their bearings and plan out their next move. "Should we hug the walls, you think? Or just set out across the middle?" Harry asked his companions.

But Neville wasn't listening. "Harry, I think there's something up ahead. Something big…"

They froze and pointed their wands in the direction Neville was indicating. They each could see the vague outline of… something… lying in the middle of the chamber. It didn't seem to be moving. Harry looked at the other two, who were squinting hard, but pressing forward at the same time. He swallowed once and took some calming breaths. He could feel his heart beating so hard in his chest that he was surprised the sound of it didn't attract the monster. He crept forward, inch by inch, until the light of his wand slid over a gigantic snake skin. It was a vivid green in color, and was curled in a pile that must have been ten feet across at least.

"The snake that shed this has to be at least thirty, maybe forty feet long." Neville whispered.

"It's not a snake." Harry and Neville both looked at Ginny as she spoke. "It's a basilisk. Oh Merlin… the Monster of Slytherin is a basilisk. It all fits. Gigantic snake skin. Petrifying people. Killing with its eyes. Oh Merlin… a basilisk." She turned to Harry with panic in her eyes. "How are we going to kill a basilisk, Harry? I'm just a first year! You two are second years… basilisks… they're one of the most lethal magical creatures in the world!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, to tell Ginny that it would be okay and they'd make it through, but Neville beat him to it. "We're going to do it because Luna and Hermione and Ron need us to, Ginny, and there's no going back now! We're going to do this because we have to!" The boy's expression was clouded and angry, and the shadows made him appear sinister.

Ginny began, "But…"

"STOP!" Neville hissed. "Just stop talking! I know you're afraid, but for Merlin's sake, Ginny, shut the fuck up, all right?"

Harry felt a surge of rage at Neville for daring taking that tone with his Ginny. He raised his wand to curse the other boy, then forced himself to stop. This was not the time to begin fighting amongst themselves. And beside, Neville had a point. The two of them would, however, be talking later about the brusque way in which Neville addressed Ginny.

For her part, Ginny just nodded and took several deep breaths.

"Okay… let's calm down and keep going," Harry said finally. And with that, he led them past the snake skin into the darkness. Within minutes they were in a true tunnel again. They kept going as the passage turned left, then right, then left again. As they progressed, the three of them got more and more nervous, became more and more on edge. They all were hoping the tunnel would finally end, but were all dreading the moment it did because they knew what awaited them at its end.

And then, as they walked past one last turn, they came to a wall upon which two intertwined serpents were carved. Ginny and Neville stopped, allowing Harry to approach alone. There was no need for him to call up memories of other snakes; these seemed to be made of living stone, somehow.

Harry cleared his throat loudly, then looked at his companions over his shoulder. Neville gave him a supportive nod, while Ginny smiled wanly at him. He tried to communicate to her how much he loved her as he stared into her eyes. With one last glance at the girl to which he was bonded, he turned back to the wall and once again cleared his throat.

"_Open_," he commanded. At the sound of that single word of Parseltongue, the two serpents separated. The halves of the wall pulled apart, sliding away behind the rest of the wall.

Harry, Ginny, and Neville stepped inside, each of them shaking from head to foot in fear at what they might find.


	17. The Chamber of Secrets

**Chapter 17: The Chamber of Secrets**

They found themselves in a long, damp chamber that was dimly lit by flaming torches set in the moss-covered marble walls. The ceiling rose into the shadows, supported by stone towers carved into the shape of twisting, intertwined serpents. Despite its size, the the omnipresent shadows made the entire room feel claustrophobic.

Harry, Ginny, and Neville stood for a moment, listening to the silence of the chamber. The only sounds they heard were the occasional random dripping of water somewhere off in the darkness and the pounding of their own hearts. Their eyes darted everywhere, looking furtively for any sign that the basilisk might be rushing at them from out of the shadows. And where were Ron and Hermione?

"_Nox," _Harry whispered, extinguishing the lit end of his wand. After a moment, his companions did the same. With a nod to Neville, he began to move forward between the serpentine columns, with his friends following. Their footsteps seemed like canon-blasts, echoing back upon them off of the walls. Harry kept his eyes peeled for any movement, swinging his wand back and forth, from left to right, just in case he needed to attack in a hurry. A quick glance to either side showed that Neville and Ginny had fallen into formation with him, a sort of rough triangle with Ginny covering his left and Neville guarding the right flank.

Harry's nervousness grew and he stopped for a moment. The tension was beginning to get to him. The darkness, the dank smell, the horrific way in which the chamber was decorated, and fear for their friends all added up. It felt like an enormous weight in Harry's stomach. And there was something else. "Do either of you get the feeling we're being watched?" He still hadn't seen anything move, but the sensation of being spied upon was getting stronger and stronger as they moved forwards.

"It's the snakes on the statues," Neville replied. He pointed his wand toward the snake-columns. "Take a look at their eyes. No matter where you stand, or where you walk, their eyes seem to follow you."

"And I'm fairly sure I saw at least one of these things move, just a little bit…" Ginny added.

Harry nodded. If this wasn't over soon, all three of them would be completely freaking out. That would be the last thing they needed if the basilisk came. "Can you guys keep going?" he asked.

Ginny's visible nervousness was replaced with visible irritation. "What kind of question is that, Harry? I'm with you forever, wherever you go. Remember that."

Neville swallowed. "While I'm not quite that dedicated, I can't turn back now. What would my Gran say if she heard I ran away while you kept going into danger?" Harry could tell that the other boy was thinking more of what his parents would think of him, were they capable of understanding. For a split second, Harry wondered how he knew that Neville's parents were… but then it was gone, pushed out of his head by the needs of the moment.

"Okay, we keep going."

Only a few minutes later, as the trio passed the last pair of serpent pillars, a gigantic statue came into view. The statue was of a thin, sour-looking wizard. The face was small and round, looking vaguely animalistic, with a thin beard that fell to the statue's toes. The statue soared to the ceiling, forty or fifty feet above their heads.

Between the statue's feet was another serpent-column standing only ten or twelve feet tall. Chained to the pillar, hanging limply, was a naked figure with bushy brown hair. Lying at the figure's feet was a lumpy pile of black robes and red-hair.

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry called. The three students rushed forward. "Neville, check on Ron. Ginny, help me with Hermione!" Harry reached upward and yanked on the iron chains holding her arms above her head to no avail. The chains rattled, but didn't loosen.

"Oh, Merlin… what happened to her?" Ginny gasped. Hermione was hanging from the chains, as naked as the day she was born. Vicious bruises marked her arms and legs, and the words "Mudblood Whore" had been burned or branded into the unconscious girl's abdomen. Ginny gently pushed Hermione's head upward, allowing access to her friend's face. There were bloody streaks below her nose and at the corners of her mouth. Hermione had clearly been tortured before she fell unconscious.

"I think," Neville began before he stopped and swallowed, hard. "I think someone's tortured her. The Heir…"

"Stand back and get ready to catch her," Harry said. He touched the tip of his wand to the chains and muttered, _"Exuro Per!"_ White hot sparks cascaded down from where his wand touched the chains. Harry gritted his teeth when a spark touched him; it was very hot, and he knew that he'd have a blister there later. He ignored the pain and stayed where he was. For some reason he couldn't understand, it actually made him feel better to see Hermione flinch sluggishly when one of the sparks landed on her shoulder. Maybe because it was proof that she was still alive. A second later, Hermione was falling into Ginny's arms.

"How is she, Ginny?" Harry asked, out of breath. He turned to see to Hermione's condition himself, but found himself blocked by Ginny.

"She's unconscious… it's… she's pretty bad off." Ginny looked up at Harry, a particularly fierce burning clear in her eyes. "Harry, give me your over-robe… I need to cover her up. You shouldn't see her like this…" She turned to where Neville knelt next to her brother. "And you stay where you are too." When Neville nodded, she asked, "How is Ron?"

"He's white as a sheet, and cold as ice," Neville said. I can't get him to wake up…"

"He won't be waking up," a smooth, low voice said. The three children jumped, spinning around to see a tall, black-haired boy leaning against one of the closest of the serpent pillars. The boy was strangely blurry, as if he wasn't quite all the way there.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Tom Riddle." It wasn't a question; rather, it was the affirmation of fact that the three of them had already known.

Riddle nodded. "That's right. I've been waiting for a long time to finally talk to you, Harry Potter. I have so many questions that only you can answer. The first and most obvious being, how did you know who I am, Mister Potter?"

Harry began to seethe. He didn't want to waste words with a phantom while one of his friends lay dying. "I'd know you anywhere. I remember you, you bastard." Harry saw the older boy's jaw working, as if Riddle was grinding his teeth. "You're a pathetic, angry child who hides behind a silly acronym, afraid of his own name!"

"Why should I, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin himself, want to use the name of a filthy Muggle?" Riddle spat, then shrugged. "So you know who I am… It changes nothing. You know nothing of my life or my feats. My accomplishments. But I… I know all about you, Harry Potter. Your friend Ron was most helpful in that regard. His jealousy gave me the perfect opening, you see."

"Jealousy?" Ginny asked. "What could Ron possibly have to be –"

"Merlin, girl, you are thick, aren't you." Riddle smirked. "Or are you merely self-involved? Your pathetic love-sickness has blinded you to the people around you."

"That's enough!" Harry stepped forward, brandishing his wand at the specter.

"Ronald Weasley has been writing in my diary since before the school year began. When he discovered the diary, he couldn't wait to open his heart and spill all of his secrets into it. Telling me all of his pitiful, childish anxieties – how his family is so poor he has to make do with hand-me-downs; how he couldn't escape the long shadow of his brothers; how angry he was at his baby sister, who bewitched his so-called 'best mate' away from him; and how very, very angry he was that his supposed best friend had turned his back on him."

While he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's. They glinted with an almost cruel, hungry look.

"You have no idea how utterly boring it is, being constantly forced to listen to the fears and concerns of an eleven year old boy," he continued. "But I put up with it. I endured it, patiently. I was sympathetic. I offered advice and encouragement. Ron _trusted _me. _Thanks for letting me get this off my chest, mate. There's no one else here I can talk to about this, Tom. My family'll just tease me, and Harry wouldn't listen…_" The shade of Tom Riddle laughed. It was a high, cold laugh, the sort of laugh no one likes to hear. It made the hairs stand up on the back of the three children's necks.

Harry was glaring daggers; in his mind, he was reviewing every combat spell he could think of. He could only imagine what Voldemort as a sixth or seventh year was capable of, but Harry had no doubt it would be bad. Neville had taken a position beside him, wand at the ready; the presence of his friend bolstered Harry's resolve. "We're not afraid of you, Tom. You're not the Dark Lord. You're just the memory of a pathetic teenage malcontent with a chip on his shoulder."

"Oh, I assure you, I am much more than that. Much more. I'm the living memory of the most powerful wizard ever to have lived."

"You're not!" For the first time since Riddle stepped out of the shadows, Neville Longbottom spoke up.

"What? What did you say?"

"You're not the most powerful wizard ever to have lived," said Neville, breathing quickly. "Albus Dumbledore is the –"

"Albus Dumbledore couldn't stop me from possessing Ron Weasley and unleashing the beast of Slytherin on his school. He couldn't stop me the first time around, either! I, the Heir of Slytherin, let loose the monster and killed, right under his nose!"

Riddle's voice lowered to an almost quiet conversational level. "And when the process is complete, Ron Weasley will be dead, and I will have returned to life to continue Salazar Slytherin's holy work."

Harry grit his teeth and spat, "You won't succeed. You're going to make you pay for what you have done to our friends. We will stop you!"

Riddle threw his head back, laughing at the threat. It was clear he wasn't intimidated by the two second years and a first year student at all. "That would be a trick I would enjoy watching." He strode forward into the flickering torchlight. "Do you really think any of you can match the power of the greatest sorcerer in the world? Look at you… a mere slip of a girl, a near-Squib, and an untrained boy with no real talents of his own?"

The older boy was growing more and more distinct by the second. Harry barely noticed. "Shut up!" He couldn't help rising to the bait. "You don't know anything about us, Riddle!"

"Oh, don't I? Your friend told me all your secrets, Harry Potter. How very desperate to escape the shadow of his older brothers. The only thing he had to claim as his own was his friendship with you, and that was ruined by a meddling baby sister." Riddle sneered. "When he wrote in the diary, he was full of anger and depression and betrayal, his best mate taken away by a sister who should have stayed in his shadow where she belonged…"

Riddle was almost three-dimensional and whole. "His anger made it that much easier for me to pour myself, a little bit at a time, into him. At first, I wanted to continue the noble work I had started, in the name of my honored ancestor: driving out the Mudbloods and the Mud-tainted from this school." Riddle smiled. It was a grim, humorless, cruel smile. "It was only at the very last, when I heard the prophecy regarding you and the Dark Lord that I realized I'd been a fool; you should have been my first and only --"

Harry raised his wand. "Merlin, you do like to hear your own voice. You're like a criminal mastermind who just can't shut up until he tells the hero the details of his unnecessarily complicated plot to take over the world." He flicked his wand sharply and said, "Anyone else completely bored? _Candelassius!"_

An incandescent beam of blue-white light burst from Harry's wand. Riddle didn't so much as move. The beam passed through him, seemingly to no effect. The red beam of Neville Longbottom's _Stupefy _and the blue-white beam from Ginny's _Confringo _were equally useless.

"A nice attempt, Potter. Unfortunately, you cannot hurt me. I, on the other hand, can definitely hurt you."

From behind the three children, a new voice called out, "_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Harry spun desperately, knowing what was about to happen. Horror and despair warred on his face as he saw the sickly green-light streaking, not toward himself as he expected, but rather his precious Ginny. He stared helplessly as his love tried to spin out of the way of the spell. But she was too slow; the Death Spell slammed into her side, knocking her into the stone wall. Her eyes glazed over as she slid to the floor. "Ginny!" Harry ran to her, kneeling at her side as he searched for some sign that she wasn't dead. "No! Don't be dead, Ginny! Please!"

Behind Harry, Neville strode forward. He waved his wand, spitting out the spells Harry taught him at the shadowed newcomer. "_Stupefy! Stupefy! Incarcerous! Confringo! Petrificus Totalis!" _The new opponent clumsily tried to bat away the first spell with his wand, but the others struck true. In seconds, the newcomer was tied up, frozen into position, unconscious, and blown backward into one of the columns where he, too, collapsed to the floor.

"Ginny… come on, Ginny… don't leave… I need you!" Harry wiped at the tears that were flooding his eyes, hoping against hope that she somehow survived the spell.

"Harry!" Neville called, voice quavering. "It's Justin, from Hufflepuff House! But… but… he's a Muggleborn! Why would a Muggleborn be helping You-Know-Who?"

Riddle laughed. The cold, cutting nature of the sound caused Harry to shiver, but just for a moment. He pulled Ginny up onto his lap, clutching her body to his chest. "Don't leave me, Gin. You can't leave me," he muttered, almost under his breath.

The shade of Tom Riddle laughed. It was a full, loud laugh; the sort of laugh one expected from movie serial villains. Cold, cruel, and absolutely sadistic in quality, it was a horrible sound. Neither of the boys even so much as noticed.

"Riddle must have been controlling him, somehow," Neville said. The boy turned and approached Harry. "Harry, is she –"

A muffled cough interrupted him. "I'm okay." The voice was strained, but it was loud enough to be heard. "Harry, I'm okay." Ginny shook as she coughed again. She rolled out of Harry's grasp onto her hands and knees and retched for a moment. The tears that had been streaming down Harry's face continued, but now he was smiling.

"Oh, Ginny, you're alive. You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive, Harry." Ginny coughed again, then accepted Harry's hand as she climbed to her feet.

"Impossible! No one survives the Killing Curse!" The shade of Riddle screamed in a voice that sounded outraged and offended. "No one has such magic!"

Harry, Ginny, and Neville all spun toward Riddle, as if suddenly remembering that he had been there all along. "Harry survived it, Riddle." Ginny hawked and spat, aiming for the shade's feet. "The Professor said… an entire class-full of fourth years could cast it and you'd likely only suffer a nosebleed. Remember?"

Harry didn't bother to wonder what she was talking about. He was too happy that she was still alive to wonder.

Riddle seethed. "Very well, then. I'd hoped my Mudblood puppet would be more effective. If all he's done is supplied me yet another victim, fine. Let's see how you stand against the Monster of Slytherin!" With visible contempt, Riddle's gaze moved over the three children, who watched as the apparition lifted its arms toward the great stone face of Salazar Slytherin, high above them in the darkness. Riddle hissed, but Harry could understand him. _"Speak to me, Slytherin! Greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"_

Harry began to back away. Without turning, he spoke. "Neville, get Ron and Justin to cover. Ginny, you take care of Hermione. Get them out of the Chamber, or at least out of sight, and then hide! I think he just released the basilisk!"

"I'm not leaving you, Harry! You need –"

"Ginny! Go! Get Hermione out!" Harry interrupted her. "I'll take care of the bloody great snake." He wasn't sure how, precisely, but he knew he had to buy his friends time to get their three unconscious classmates out.

Harry watched as the stone face of Salazar Slytherin moved, its mouth opening wider and wider. He could see something moving in the shadows of that deep open hole. Harry continued backing up as he watched first the head, and then the long body of the basilisk emerge from Slytherin's mouth. The gigantic snake slowly lowered itself toward the floor of the chamber. He could only hope his friends were following his directions.

The basilisk landed in a moving pile, its great weight causing the floor of the Chamber to shudder. The snake began freeing itself from the tangle of its fall from the statue's mouth, and it was enough to shock Harry back to reality. He quickly raised his wand and shouted, _"Diffindo!" _The blue-white beam of the cutting curse struck the basilisk in the side without any seeming effect. _"Diffindo! Reducto! Confringo!, Sectumsempra!" _he shouted in quick succession. The basilisk didn't seem to even notice.

From behind him, Harry heard more spells cast. Neither Ginny nor Neville had listened to him, preferring to stand with their friend against the Monster of Slytherin. The sheer horror of the situation made it hard for Harry to think. He had to find some way to stop the basilisk. He had to keep it from killing Ginny!

The basilisk, now fully uncoiled, moved swiftly. It curled itself up the right leg of the statue of Slytherin, gazing at the shade of Tom Riddle in expectation. Riddle was laughing again. "You underestimate the power of the King of Serpents, Potter! No schoolboy spell will kill it!" Riddle again spoke in Parseltongue, directly to the basilisk. _"Kill the boy! Kill his friends! Kill them all!"_

Harry's mind whirled, desperately seeking some way the great beast could be destroyed. His eyes traveled down the snake's length, and then up the leg of the statue around which it was still coiled. It took only a second, but the barest beginnings of an idea formed, and Harry once again raised his wand. Harry smiled as he completed the motion, quickly as he could, and shouted, _"Bombarda Maxima!"_ As the basilisk slithered down from the statue's leg and began sliding toward the three children, the yellow, cone-shaped beam of the Blasting Spell flew from Harry's wand and over the body of the basilisk, missing it completely and impacting the legs of the statue.

"Pathetic, Potter. You should learn to hit your target," the shade of Riddle taunted. The older boy was almost solid, now.

Harry's smile widened as the sound of shattering stone filled the Chamber for a moment. "I did hit my target, you git!" he replied.

As Harry spoke, huge cracks began to spread through the legs of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. The sound of shattering stone thundered through the air. Chunks of stone began falling around the basilisk, several bouncing off of its gray, scaly hide. The beast began to writhe in pain as larger and large chunks slammed into it from above, but it was too late for the creature. The whole, stone head of the statue came toppling down, crushing the snake and pinning its body to the floor.

The basilisk gave a long, shuddering breath, and then died.

The three children, along with Tom Riddle, all stared at the dead monster for a moment. "It's dead…" Riddle's voice was forlorn, as if the boy had just lost a beloved pet. "You killed it." The Heir of Slytherin turned to the three children suddenly and raised a wand. Absently, Harry noted that it was Ron's wand... the one that used to belong to his brother Charlie. "It makes no difference!" Riddle was still speaking. In fact, I think I prefer it this way! I'll kill you through the strength of my own magic!" The boy raised the stolen wand. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The sickly green spell raced toward Harry, who brought his own wand up in a sharp wave. A chunk of stone that had formerly been a part of the statue of Slytherin leapt into the air in time to intercept the Killing Curse. Harry dodged to the right and yelled, "_Candelassius!"_ The silvery light beam that made up Harry's spell rebounded as his opponent called out, _"Protego!"_

Neville Longbottom and Ginny Potter both ran forward. Neville shouted, _"Reducto!" _as Ginny called out _Ferotellum!"_ A four foot long sharpened spike of iron flew as if fired from a ballista toward the Heir of Slytherin. It punched through the hastily-erected shield, but Riddle was able to sidestep and avoid the conjured spear. Neville's Reductor Curse struck the boy in the arm, causing Riddle to spin away from his attackers. Harry moved toward Riddle's left as Ginny continued to move. She edged to Riddle's right as Neville and Harry fired curse after curse at the Heir of Slytherin. Quickly, they had the older boy in a three-way crossfire, but very few of their spells could make it through his shields.

"You've lost and you don't even know it, Potter! All I have to do is outlast you! Your friend Ron is about to die, and there is nothing you can do about it! Even if you knock me out and turn me over to the Aurors, your friend will still be dead, and I'll still be the most powerful wizard in the world." Riddle sneered as his shield repelled another set of attacks.

Harry's teeth ground as he dodged Riddle's counter-attack. He took a step back but stopped when he bumped against something large. Looking over his shoulder quickly, he was surprised to see he'd run into the neck of the dead basilisk. Even in death, the creature was frightening. Not only its great size, but its dagger-length fangs…

"Basilisk fangs…" The thought floated up into his mind from somewhere in his memory. With a grin, Harry turned to his wife and called, "Ginny! Toss me the diary!"

Ginny looked surprised for a moment, but then glanced around at her feet to find she was standing almost on top of her older brother. With almost casual ease, she stooped to pick up the diary that had been lying on his chest. She flung it overhand toward Harry, who caught it with the ease only an experienced Seeker could display.

Harry pulled the book open with both hands, turned, and impaled the open pages on one of the dripping fangs of the Monster of Slytherin. For a split second, everyone stared at the book. Then there was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted from the diary in fast jets, like blood from an open artery. Riddle screamed and, convulsing, fell to the floor. The Heir of Slytherin seemed to shatter like glass, a great black smoke pouring into the air from his body.

And then the memory of Tom Riddle was gone.

Neville's wand clattered to the floor, while Harry and Ginny both slumped against the neatest columns. There was silence in the chamber other than the slow drip-drip-drip of black ink falling to the floor from the diary. The children looked to each other and smiled. Slowly, they pulled themselves upright.

There came a soft moan from behind Ginny. Ron shifted, and then sat up. His terror-struck eyes traveled from Harry to Neville to Ginny, then fell on the huge form of the basilisk for a moment, then slid to where the diary still hung from one of the great beast's fangs. A sad, desperate, hungry look crept onto his face as Ron drew in a long, shuddering breath.

"It was – He made – I didn't –" Ron began, stopped, and then began again. "He wanted – He took me over! I tried to fight him, but he was so strong! He made me do things. Horrible, evil things—"

"It's all right, Ron." Ginny gathered her brother up into a hug. "He's gone. We killed the basilisk and destroyed the diary. You're free of him." She helped him to his feet, and then looked to Neville and Harry. "Come on, let's wake Justin up and get out of here. I'll take care of Hermione?"

"You don't understand! I tortured Herm – " Ron gaped for a moment, then continued. "The things he made me do! I killed people!" Ron refused to be consoled. He also refused to look them in the eyes. Instead Ron stared downward, toward the floor. The boy shivered, then wiped absently at his running nose with a sleeve. "Mum is going to kill me," he muttered, almost to himself.

"She'll understand, Ron. Mum will understand." Ginny waved her wand over Hermione and muttered, "_Levicorpus."_ The unconscious girl's body floated into the air, moving at Ginny's direction.

Harry walked over to the still-bound Justin Finch-Fletchley as Neville and Ginny got Ron moving toward the Chamber's entrance. With a quick _Finite_ and an _Ennervate_, Harry removed the ropes bounding the Hufflepuff boy and woke him up.

Justin blinked in the dim lighting, and then burst into tears. "Oh, Christ! What have I -- Harry Potter? That horrid Weasley boy came and – and then I was –" His face was white as a sheet. He looked up at Harry in utter confusion. "What's happened to me?"

Harry gave a hand and helped Justin to his feet. "Let's get out of here. Pomfrey should take a look at you and Ron both."

At the mention of the name, the Fletchley boy jerked as if stung. "Ron? Ron Weasley? He's the one who – he appeared out of nowhere last night. Waved his wand in my face and suddenly I was hearing some bloke's voice in my head again! Telling me I wanted to…" Justin flushed, and then glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. "I didn't mean it, Potter… I swear I didn't mean it.

"I know," Harry sighed. "Don't worry, Justin. You're not the first person to fall under Voldemort's influence." He walked over to the body of the basilisk and very carefully removed the diary from the fang from which it hung. With a last look around, he led the other children out.

Soon enough they were back in the pitch dark entrance to the Chamber, staring at the various pipes from the light of their wands. Ginny gently lowered Hermione to the floor, and then moved to stand next to her brother. Ron had yet to say a word to anyone since they left the main chamber. Ginny had tried to show her brother how much she cared by rubbing his back and supporting him, but he quickly shrugged off her touch the moment she tried. Justin, on the other hand, hadn't shut up, talking about the horror of not being under control of your own mind non-stop. Other than his lack of color and the babbling, the greatest effect of his trauma was that he wouldn't come within ten feet of Ron.

The group stood in the entrance for several minutes, each contemplating what to do next. Finally, Neville leaned against the wall next to the pipe they had slid down and stuck his head into it. "Harry," Neville asked, his voice echoing up into the darkness. "I don't suppose you've thought how we're going to get back up this?"

"Well, I know we're not going up that way," Harry responded. He thought the problem over, and then shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea."

"Riddle opened the Chamber several times the first go round, back in the 40s. There's bound to be a safe way to get back up." Ginny turned to her brother. "Um… Ron… I hate to ask you this, but do you remem – "

"No!" Ron almost shouted. "I don't – I don't remember coming down here… I don't remember coming down here." He kept repeating that phrase, _I don't remember coming down here_ like a mantra or a prayer.

Finally, Harry seemed to come to a decision. "I know one thing… there's no way the self-appointed Heir of Slytherin would crawl up a pipe. It's just not… dignified. Let me try something." He strode to the center of the entrance chamber, and then turned slowly in a circle. He stared at each of the walls in turn. He pictured the snakes on the door to the chamber, those snakes that looked to be carved of living stone, and imagined he was speaking to them in Parseltongue.

"_Stairs!_"

The children all waited in the darkness for something to happen. Nothing did.

"_Open!"_

Nothing.

"_Exit! Door! Escape!"_

Still nothing. A panic was creeping into Harry, starting from his toes. The other children were growing more and more frightened as the shadows seemed to lengthen around them.

"_Please, let us out… please…"_

Harry was almost in tears. He didn't know what else to try. With a sigh, he said, "_I want to go home…"_

Everyone jumped when the bricks in the wall next to where Justin Finch-Fletchley was standing began to shift and open, revealing a spiraling staircase upward. The children all stared at each other for a moment. Then the nervous giggling started.

"I don't know what you said, Harry, but whatever it was, I agree completely," Neville said. He patted his friend on the shoulder, and then led the way up.

"That was bril, Love." Ginny once again levitated Hermione, and followed. Harry waited for Ron and then Justin to go ahead before taking up the rear of the line.

The climb was steep and long and seemed to carry on for hours and hours, but finally the stairs ended at a landing. An iron-banded wooden door, featuring an old-fashioned ring-handle, blocked any further progress. Neville grabbed the ring and pulled the door open. They were surprised to find themselves back in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, just in time to see the hole by which they entered the Chamber close again. Myrtle stared at them, surprised.

"You're still alive!"

"Well, yeah…" Harry stammered as he wiped flecks of grime from his glassed with a sleeve. Unfortunately, the action only caused the smudges to get worse, as the sleeve was also covered in muck.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed, Myrtle," Ginny said grimly.

"Where now?" asked Neville, who was glancing anxiously at Ron and Justin, both of whom were looking on the ragged edge of hysteria.

Harry pointed to the door. "Go with Ginny… take Hermione straight to the Hospital Wing. I'll go with Justin and Ron." The two shell-shocked boys just nodded and followed Harry along the corridor. They shuffled after him, and moments later found themselves outside of Professor Dumbledore's office.

Harry tapped on the gargoyle's nose and spoke. "Please let us in."

The gargoyle moved aside, and the three boys stepped forward onto the moving staircase.


	18. Nothing Ever Really Ends

**Chapter 18: Nothing Ever Really Ends**

The three were quiet as they rode the moving spiral staircase upwards. The other two boys wouldn't look at each other, or at Harry. They simply stared at the floor as if afraid it would fall out from underneath them. Harry didn't know quite know what to say that wouldn't make the already bad situation worse, so he kept his peace, wondering all the while how he was going to explain it all.

The staircase reached the landing in front of Dumbledore's office. Harry reached forward, knocked twice, and pushed the door open.

There was a long, drawn out moment as the two Weasley parents, Professor McGonagall, a well-dressed couple that Harry didn't recognize, and Professor Dumbledore all stared at the new arrivals. Justin and Ron were covered in filth, while Harry added blood to the muck and mire.

Then Molly Weasley screamed. She rushed from where she had been sitting beside the fireplace and flung herself at her youngest son. Tears ran from her eyes as she moaned, "Oh, my baby, my baby…" over and over again. Ron didn't offer any resistance to the hug he found himself enveloped in. Indeed, he barely registered the hug at all.

The well-dressed woman stepped quickly to Justin's side and crouched down beside him. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Justin? Are you… are you all right? Do you need a doctor? What happened?"

The identities of the man and woman became clear to Harry, and the realization caused a sharp stab of regret. _Justin's Mum and Dad._ His own parents could never be called to the Headmaster's office in an emergency. Or for the good things either. The pain of it faded quickly, but the regret stayed.

Harry looked past the Weasleys and Finch-Fletchleys and met Professor Dumbledore's eyes. The older man was beaming at him. Next to him, Professor McGonagall seemed to be having trouble breathing, Harry stepped forward, intent on approaching the Headmaster and his Head of House, when he was suddenly pulled into Molly Weasley's embrace. Seeing as she hadn't let go of Ron yet, the hug was slightly painful, if well-intentioned.

"Harry… er." It was Arthur Weasley. He reached toward Harry as if to put a hand on his shoulder, then hesitated. "Er… Ginny… did you… is she…?"

Harry nodded. "She's safe. Ginny's safe." The pronouncement caused Molly to start sobbing even louder, and once again Harry found himself squeezed into Ron. Mrs. Weasley released the pair, and then took Harry by the shoulders. She stared into Harry's eyes, and for the first time he realized where it was that Ginny got her chocolate-brown eyes.

"She… Ginny, I mean… she is taking Hermione Granger to the Hospital Wing. Hermione's hurt." It was the first time Justin Finch-Fletchley spoke. "Rather badly."

"How did you do it, Harry? What happened?" she asked.

Professor McGonagall coughed. "I think that is something we'd all like to know," she muttered, just loudly enough to be heard.

Mrs. Weasley let go of the boys. Harry shrugged, and then walked over to the Headmaster's desk. He carefully placed the remains of Tom Riddle's diary, ink still oozing from it, in the middle of the broad surface.

"We… a bunch of us… Neville, and the twins, and Ginny and I… figured out where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was. We didn't think you'd believe us if we told you, Professor -- " he shot a sharp look at McGonagall, who blanched, " -- but we knew someone had to do something if… well… you know, if Ron and Hermione were to survive. So we sort of snuck into the Chamber. And… well…"

Harry stopped speaking. The adults waited for him to resume. When he showed no sign of doing so, Dumbledore prompted him. "Go on, Harry. It will be all right."

Despite the Headmaster's reassurances, Harry hesitated. He hadn't mentioned Ron or the diary. Ron was standing there with his head on his mother's shoulder, crying silently. The pain Harry could see in his friend's eyes was almost tangible. _What if they expel him,_ Harry thought, _or send him to Azkaban!_ There was no proof, after all, that Tom Riddle had possessed Ron through the diary. Harry turned his gaze to Justin, who looked just as shocked and horrified. _And what about Justin! They'll say he helped to hurt everyone!_

Harry glanced at the ruined book that even now dripped black ink onto the Headmaster's desk. "You see, sir," he began… then stopped. His mouth opened and closed several times before he looked back up at Dumbledore.

"Tell me, Harry." The old man's voice was soothing and kind. "Do you know how it was that Lord Voldemort was able to impose such influence on these two young boys? During your rescue, did you find out? I'd be ever so interested in know how he accomplished that, when my sources say he's currently hiding out in an Albanian forest."

Relief poured over Harry like rain.

"What did you say, Headmaster?" Arthur Weasley was white from shock. "_You-Know-Who _did this? _He_ was behind all of… But, Ron… is Ron going to… will he be…"

"It was this diary, sir." Harry put his hand on it where the book lay on the desk. "Tom Riddle… Voldemort… he created it when he was a student." Harry didn't notice when the Weasleys and McGonagall cringed at the name.

Dumbledore picked the remains of the diary up and inspected it. He peered at it over his glasses, turning it over and flipping through the pages. "Yes, Tom Riddle was very likely the most brilliant student this school has ever seen, with perhaps the exception of myself and your Miss Granger."

The Headmaster looked up from the diary to meet Arthur Weasley's confused and frightened stare. "Very few people alive today know that the one we call Lord Voldemort was once a Hogwarts student named Tom Riddle. I myself was one of his teachers."

"Tom Riddle?" McGonagall gasped. "That smarmy Slytherin boy who was always kissing up to the teachers? Headmaster, are you trying to tell me that _he_ turned into You-Know-Who?" At Dumbledore's nod, she sighed. "I always knew he'd get up to no good." She glanced at the Weasleys, the Finch-Fletchleys (who were watching the entire discussion with some confusion), and Harry, who was staring at her with a bemused look on her face. "Tom Riddle was a year behind me when I was a student here at Hogwarts," she said, finally. "I never liked him."

"But, Ron," began Mrs. Weasley. "What does Ron – what does _HE_ have to do with Ron?"

Everyone looked to Ron, who remained silent.

"The diary; Ron's been writing in it. Riddle… the ghost, or whatever he was that we saw, he said that because Ron had written in the diary all year, he… Riddle, I mean… was able to possess Ron."

"Ron!" cried Arthur Weasley. "What have I always said about things that can think for themselves? Never trust them unless you can tell where it keeps its brain! Why didn't you show…" Arthur trailed off, looking sad and hopeless as he saw the blank expression on his son's face. "Son, why didn't you show it to me or your mother?"

"I didn't know I didn't know I didn't know I DIDN'T KNOW!" Ron's reply started as a whisper and ended in a shout. The blank expression had been replaced by rage and sorrow. "I found it in my books! I thought Mum had bought it for me! I thought I finally had something that was just mine and hadn't belonged to one of the – "

"Arthur," Dumbledore interrupted. The Headmaster's voice was calm and level. "I think it might be wise for you to take young Mister Weasley to the hospital wing. It is obvious that this experience has been very taxing on him. Mister Finch-Fletchley as well, I think." Dumbledore strode over to the door and held it for the two families, who shuffled out quietly.

Professor Dumbledore was silent for a moment. To Harry, it was obvious that his Headmaster was thinking, in that deep, quiet, very contemplative manner adults get when they are mulling over something dreadfully important. He looked from Professor Dumbledore, then to Professor McGonagall, then back to Dumbledore.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, just to put an end to the uncomfortable silence, when Dumbledore spoke. "Minerva," the Headmaster said to Professor McGonagall. "I think this happy occasion calls for a celebration. Might I ask you to go alert the kitchens that they are to go all out tonight? A full feast would be wonderful."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, glanced at Harry, and then said nothing. After a moment, she nodded. "Right. I'll leave you to deal with Potter, then, shall I?" Dumbledore merely nodded as Professor McGonagall moved to the door. In a moment, Harry and the Headmaster were alone.

Harry's face was a mask of uncertainty. _What did Professor McGonagall mean, exactly… _deal _with them, _he asked himself silently. _Certainly she didn't mean we'd be punished! Surely…_

Dumbledore's voice brought the internal turmoil to a close. It was as if the old man could read Harry's mind. "Fear not. No one will be punished. Wizards who are far older and far more experienced than Ronald Weasley have been fooled and corrupted by the schemes of Lord Voldemort, and I can hardly punish you, or Miss…" Dumbledore interrupted himself. The old professor shook his head for a moment, and then gave a grim smile. "I mean Mrs. Potter… or Mister Longbottom for saving the lives of your classmates. The three of you will receive a Special Award for Services to the School and -- I think – yes, let's have a hundred and fifty points apiece for Gryffindor."

The thought of the massive points award – surely enough to put Gryffindor over the top for the House Cup – made Harry smile, but only for a moment. He was too worried about his friends.

Dumbledore crossed his office to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He gestured towards one of them. Harry sat. He fidgeted nervously as the Headmaster stared for a moment into the fire. "So," the old man said at last. "You have met Tom Riddle." To Harry, it seemed the Headmaster's voice was unaccountably sad. "I'd imagine he was _most _interested in meeting you…"

Harry was about to speak when Dumbledore interrupted. "Before you came to Hogwarts, I had hoped that you'd have as normal a childhood as you could find. But now it seems you're fated for a destiny that is anything but normal. Twice in as many years the specter of Lord Voldemort has intruded upon your life. It is fair to say that your home life with the Dursleys was less than salutary and for that I must apologize. And now you have found yourself involuntarily enmeshed in a relationship that would have suited you just fine had it happened in five or six years… but twelve?" Dumbledore shook his head. "It isn't what I would have wanted for your life, Harry, regardless of how happy you seem to be. Such a situation… you are still children! It never should have happened, but all we can do is deal with it now."

"Professor, are you talking about me and Gin – " Harry started to ask, his anger building.

But Dumbledore cut him off. "Ah, well. That is a subject for another day. I dare say you'll no doubt be wanting to join your friends and your… your young bride… in the Hospital Wing. I'm sure you'll still find Madame Pomfrey up and around, now that she has young Mister Weasley and the others to look after in addition to the Lovegood girl."

Harry took a step toward the door, but stopped. "So Luna's okay?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes… she'll make a full recovery in time. There has been no lasting harm done."

"No lasting harm," Harry echoed. "Professor, she had to have been – " Harry stopped for a moment. "I mean, sir –" The boy gulped, hating the thought that was in his head. "She was tortured, wasn't she? Tom Riddle used Ron to torture Luna, just like he tortured Hermione Granger. Won't that cause her lasting harm?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened, and lost some of their grandfatherly kindness. "I am saddened to hear that Miss Granger was tortured. I assume that someone took her to the Hospital Wing so that Madame Pomfrey can look after her?"

Harry frowned at the change of subject, but as it was a reasonable question he didn't say anything. "Neville and Ginny did. Took Hermione to the Hospital Wing, I mean." He rubbed his hand absently under his suddenly stuffy nose. The pressures of the day's events were beginning to land on him, hard, and it was all he could do to not burst out in tears.

The Headmaster stared at Harry, his expression softening as he realized what Harry was going through. "Go to your friends, Harry. Get some rest, and have Madame Pomfrey attend to your own injuries. You've done enough for today. Even heroes have to rest sometime. We'll talk again, soon. And I assure you, neither Miss Lovegood nor Miss Granger will want for help in recovering from their ordeals. You have my promise."

The Headmaster opened his office door and held it, as he had done for the Weasleys, the Finch-Fletchleys, and Professor McGonagall. On the other side of the door, his silver-headed walking stick raised so as to knock, stood Lucius Malfoy. Crouching fearfully behind his legs was a house elf Harry recognized: _Dobby!_

Malfoy eyes shifted as they took in both the Headmaster and Harry Potter. With a sneer, he turned from Harry to address Dumbledore. "So, Dumbledore. I'm here as a representative of the Board of Directors." He raised a roll of parchment in his clenched fist. "This latest attack has several important families in disarray, and they have demanded your suspension. It was bad enough when the victims were squibs and the Muggleborn, but now that the murder victim is a Pureblood –" Malfoy interrupted himself to sneer down at Harry before continuing, " -- and from a family attached to one of the Twelve, we–"

"Ron Weasley is still alive. So is Hermione Granger for that matter." Harry's voice was level, but it masked a sudden anger. How could Malfoy have known so quickly what was going on? And the remark about it being 'bad enough' when the victims were Mister Filch and Colin Creevey, merely a Squib and a Muggbleborn, caused Harry's blood to start boiling. "The cause of the attacks has been stopped. You've got no call to –"

"You should learn, boy, to not interrupt your betters." Harry could see Lucius Malfoy's ears turning pink. The man turned to Dumbledore and stared for a moment. "So – the attacks have been stopped?"

"Yes, Lucius, the attacks have been stopped," Dumbledore said with a sigh.

Malfoy's smile became wider and, if possible, even more reptilian than it had been before. "And the culprit? You've caught the person responsible?"

"Yes," came Dumbledore's patient response.

Harry was on the verge of screaming. It was obvious who the actual culprit was. Out of nowhere, a thought stopped him from speaking. The thought came as a voice… a deeper, very familiar voice. _But there's no proof, and he'd just buy his way out of Minister Fudge's jail anyway. You'll get your chance later._

"_Well?" _Mr. Malfoy demanded. "Who was it?"

The Headmaster was quiet for a moment, before responding. "Lord Voldemort. Through the use of an enchanted diary, Lord Voldemort was able to take control of a student. Once in control, Voldemort opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed the monster on the school."

Malfoy muttered, "I see."

"It was a clever plan," Dumbledore continued. "And it might have worked, had young Harry here, along with some of his friends, not figured it out and put a stop to it. They discovered what the book was, you see, and discovered what it was doing. Otherwise, I'd fairly say the blame would have landed on Ronald Weasley's head, since no one could tell he wasn't acting on his own volition."

Malfoy's face was completely blank. It seemed to Harry as if the man had suddenly become aware of the thin ice upon which he was skating. "Well," he said at last, "it is very fortunate for all of us that Mister Potter was there to save the day." He glanced toward the boy, and if looks could kill Harry knew he'd have been dead on the office floor.

"Well then, there's no need for me to stay." Malfoy whirled toward the door. "Come, Dobby… we're leaving." He wrenched the door open and kicked the house elf through it. Harry and Dumbledore could both here the creature's pain-filled squeals as it fell down the staircase.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said angrily. "Please excuse me, but there is something I have to do."

"Wait, Harry… don't—" but the closing door cut the Headmaster's words off. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket, then rushed down the staircase as quickly as he could without tripping. When he reached the corridor outside of the Headmaster's office, he glanced to the left and right, searching. There – Lucius Malfoy was striding through the empty hall, occasionally giving poor Dobby a kick to keep the elf moving.

Harry ran after him. "Malfoy! Lucius Malfoy! Stop where you are!" Malfoy stopped at the head of a staircase and turned, incredulous, as Harry skidded to a halt in front of him.

"Lucius Malfoy!" Harry gasped, a bit out of breath. He inhaled deeply through his nose to calm his breathing. "I warned you in the bookstore, Malfoy. You did this. You gave Ron Weasley the diary,"

Malfoy's hands clenched and unclenched. "Why don't you _prove it_," he hissed.

"Oh, I think we both know I can't prove it. But I know, Malfoy. I know. You put this entire plot into action, and by doing so, you put members of my family – you put my brother-in-law -- in the path of Lord Voldemort. I warned you."

Malfoy growled. His hand went to the silver serpent-head of his walking stick, but Harry was faster. With a gesture, the cane flew from Malfoy's hands, only to land on the cobblestones behind Harry. The older man's eyes widened in shock. "Wha—" Lucius Malfoy swallowed, calming himself. "What do you want, Potter." The man's voice still quavered. "You have no proof it was me. You've got no call to pursue any sort of vendetta. The Twelve Families would–"

"– no doubt do something bad to me, yes." Harry was thoughtful. "I'm sorry, Lucius, but there must be some reparation. Or did you forget I'm the head of one of the Twelve, just as you are? You hurt my family. You hurt the Sept-daughter of a second family. There is a price to be paid for all of this, and you're going to pay it."

"Harry." It was Dumbledore. The Headmaster just stood there, calmly, holding Malfoy's walking stick in one hand and his own wand in the other. "Perhaps… perhaps some other form of reparation. You need not take the price out in blood."

A strange feeling of calm washed over Harry at the Headmaster's words. Casually, as if it had been his intention all along, Harry lowered his wand. "Other form of reparation," Harry muttered. He stared at Lucius Malfoy for a long moment, taking in the man's form. Then his eyes turned to Dobby; Harry nodded. "Yes, other forms of reparation."

Harry pushed his hand into one of his pockets and fumbled around for whatever he carried. When he pulled it out, his fist held a piece of lint, an old scrap of parchment with an indecipherable note on it, and three knuts. "This is my demand. The House of Malfoy will sell the House of Potter all of its house elves for the sum of three knuts. That'll be the reparations, or else it will be war upon Draco Malfoy by not only my House, but by the Longbottoms as well." With that, Harry tossed the coins at Malfoy's feet.

"What? That's preposter–" Malfoy's outburst was interrupted by a soft cough from the Headmaster. Malfoy was quiet for a moment, before sighing. "That price is accepted." He stooped to pick up the coins, then turned to Dobby. "Dobby, Mister Potter is now your owner. My last order to you is this: you will go and inform Mamby that she has been sold, and then you will report to Mister Potter for new instructions."

"Thank you, Lucius." Dumbledore stepped forward to give Malfoy his cane back. "Harry, you were going to see your friends in the Hospital Wing."

Harry nodded tiredly and walked away.

Lucius Malfoy watched Harry Potter fade into the shadows of the corridor before speaking. "There is something decidedly off about that young man. Tell me, Dumbledore," he eyed the Headmaster speculatively. "What sort of twelve year old boy speaks like that? What _**child**_ acts like that?"

Dumbledore was loathe to discuss Harry with the man who had just caused so much chaos in the school. But to this comment, he couldn't help but respond. Lucius was, after all, correct. "I wish I knew."

**XxxxxxX**

It was late by the time Harry, Ginny, and Neville made it back to the Gryffindor dormitories. They had missed the extravagant feast thrown in celebration of their accomplishments, preferring to stay by the bedside of their injured friends. They hadn't even known the feast was going on, or indeed hadn't spared a thought toward dinner either. The three children would probably have stayed in the Hospital Wing all night had Professor McGonagall not come to retrieve them.

"I can't believe they're thinking about erasing Hermione's memory when she wakes up," Neville said with a sigh.

"Just the memory of the torture, Neville. I think it's for the best. Who would want to remember that?" Ginny patted her friend on the back. Harry merely nodded, still lost in his own thoughts.

"What if something goes wrong and she doesn't remember any of us?" The thought scared Neville. He wasn't sure what he exactly felt for Hermione Granger, but he knew that it would hurt if she suddenly didn't remember him. "They didn't have to erase Luna's memory! What if…"

"Mister Longbottom." The calm, curt voice of Professor McGonagall stopped the impending hysterical rant. "I assure you that if it comes to it, the Ministry Obliviators know what they are doing. You will not lose your friendship with Miss Granger. I personally guarantee it." The Deputy-Headmistress gave the password to the Fat Lady, opening the door to the Gryffindor dorms. She waved her students through, then followed.

"Now, I know this has been an exciting day for all of you, but I want you to go straight to bed and try–" Minerva McGonagall broke off, suddenly. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Mister Potter, I distinctly remember telling you to release Mister Weasley's rat earlier. What is it still doing in a cage on this study table?" She stepped toward the table, gesturing Potter to follow. "I do not put up with disobedience from my students, Mister Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor, and I am sorry to say this, given your recent achievements, but detention with me tomorrow night."

She turned back to the table and pulled her wand from her robes. She had just begun the wand movement to banish the cage when her arm was suddenly tugged out-of-line. Instead of the cage being banished, one of the large candlesticks lighting the room was banished. She looked down to see Harry Potter's hand on her arm.

_Of all the nerve,_ she thought to herself. "Mister Potter, do not compound your–"

"Please, professor. Don't. Not until you _check!_ I'll take more punishment. I serve a week's worth of detention and you can take a hundred points from me… just don't do anything without _checking!"_ Harry's eyes were imploring. She looked from the black-haired boy to the Weasley girl, who shared Harry's obvious distress, then to Longbottom, who merely looked confused. "Please, professor… it isn't just a rat. It's Peter Pettigrew. He's an animagus, and he's been hiding out for nearly twelve years. And Sirius Black has been rotting in prison for just as long, even though he's innocent. You can't just ignore… you can't…" Potter's words trailed away as he broke up into tears.

McGonagall's heart broke a little. She'd been so wrapped up in making sure that she wasn't favoring the child of two of her all time favorite students that she'd forgotten that this boy _was _ a child of two of her favorite students.

"Very well, Harry. Very well." McGonagall began the _Hominem Revealo_ spell that would put an end to this foolishness once and for all. "But when this is over, I expect –" Once again her words were interrupted, this time as the rat in the cage began to glow a dull white. It took a moment for her conscious mind to realize what this meant.

The rat was an animagus after all.

"Well. That wasn't what I expected." Professor McGonagall leaned down toward the cage and eyed the rat, who was now frantically trying to find a way out. "I don't know who you are," she said to the animagus she was coming to suspect would prove to be the long-thought-dead Pettigrew, "but we will be finding out shortly."

Behind her, Ginny pulled Harry into a hug and patted his back. "See," she whispered into his ear. "Everything's going to be just fine. Voldemort's gone, your godfather is going to be released from prison, and everything is going to be just fine from now on. You'll see.

**XxxxxxX**

It had been three days, and he'd hated each and every second.

Ron Weasley sat on the gabled eave of his older brother Percy's room, having crawled out onto the Burrow's roof from his own room. Despite being May, the night was chilly, and the wind didn't help at all. But Ron barely felt it. He'd been this cold and colder for a long time… ever since Tom Riddle started seeping into his soul from the diary.

Physically, Ron had recovered from whatever dark magic the diary had been working on him fairly quickly. An hour or two after crawling out of the Chamber of Secrets, Madame Pomfrey had proclaimed him "healthy as a thirteen year old boy was supposed to be" and released him to his parents, who immediately took him home.

Emotionally…

That had been three days ago, and he'd hated each and every second.

For most of the year, he'd been afraid of one thing or another. Afraid of his sister's… whatever it was his sister had with Harry. Afraid he was losing contact with Harry. Afraid of his burgeoning feelings for Hermione Granger. Afraid of not having something for himself, that was special to him and not just something he inherited from someone else. But that fear had led him to the diary, and the last thing he wanted to think about was the diary. Thinking about what the diary had done to him was bad enough, but thinking about the diary…

It was too horrible to contemplate. He'd certainly never admit it to his family.

He wasn't afraid of the diary. He wasn't afraid of the spirit of the evil young man who had come out of the diary to dominate him so completely. No, fear was too weak a word. He was terrified, not merely afraid. He became a slave in his own body, and nothing he tried stopped it.

His friendship with Harry and Hermione was over. Ron was sure of it. Under the control of Tom Riddle or not, he had been aware of everything that was going on. He'd watched as Riddle used his body to kill Argus Filch, and Colin Creevey. To try and kill Justin Finch-Fletchley. To torture Luna Lovegood.

And Hermione.

He'd have nightmares about Hermione for years.

Ron looked down at the ground, four stories below him. He pictured himself pushing off of the roof and just falling. It wouldn't take long, he figured, and then it would be all over. The pain, the fear, the anguish, the guilt. The massive, massive guilt that ate at him all the time now. But most especially, falling to his death would end the whispering voice that even now crept up from the darkest recesses of his mind.

"_You still belong to me, Ron Weasley," _the specter of Tom Riddle said. _"I'm still here, and I will be here forever. You won't believe the things I will show you. The things I will teach you. You are going to get everything you ever wanted, Ron. You're going to be recognized as more than just the youngest Weasley boy. You'll have power, and respect. Because I'm not done with you yet…"_

Tom Riddle's voice. Ron closed his eyes and shivered, but not from the wind. He leaned forward and looked again to the ground, so far below.

All he'd have to do is just give himself a bit of a push.

**XxxxxxX**

'_Cause I can't get up._

_I'm as cold as a stone,_

_I can feel the life fade from me._

_I'm down on the ground,_

_I've got seconds to live,_

_Then what's there that waits for me?_

'_Cause love, like a sentence of death_

_Has left me stunned, and I'm reeling._

_And if you go, Furious Angels_

_Will bring you back to me._

Rob Dugan, _Furious Angels_


End file.
